


Simplicity

by Blank_Page



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Animal Traits, Brat Dean, Daddy Castiel, Domestic Discipline, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Humiliation, Kitty play, Little Dean, M/M, Masochism, Master/Pet, Omega Dean, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Underage Sex, Power Dynamics, Punishment, Puppy Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blank_Page/pseuds/Blank_Page
Summary: The recalcitrant Dean Winchester is subdued by a peculiar blue-eyed alpha.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um hi... i'm not a very good writer but i wanted to try. i hope you like it! :)
> 
> also this fic is going to be full of mistakes and very rough but i'll be editing it after i complete it. hope the mistakes don't bother you too much.

Dean sits perfectly still, watching with a sharp gaze as Zachariah Adler stalks back into the room with a contemptuous frown. Dean is kneeling on a large slab of split white marble and he has been for the last hour and a half; his bare knees and shins are throbbing with pain and he’s fairly certain he’s bled underneath his legs. He refuses to make a noise or move, ask for forgiveness or safeword. The chubby, tall alpha comes to stand in front of him, anger clouding his expression.

“Get off,” he says loudly. Too loud for Dean’s sensitive wolf ears. He flicks them a few times and doesn’t move from his position. Zachariah’s face slowly becomes pink as he gets angrier, and his eyes flash a deep red color. Dean should be afraid of him, should be cowering at his feet, begging for forgiveness without speaking a word, but he isn’t one of those puppies.

Dean is a brat. Plain and simple.

He doesn’t waver at the sight of an angry alpha. He fights tooth and nail against anything and everything, outright refuses to obey commands. He’s been disciplined in dozens of surprisingly creative ways and he’s yet to crack.

Zachariah growls, dangerously low, and lifts his hand, backhanding Dean across the face. His head snaps to the side, and he swallows thickly, eyes responsively stinging. He inhales slowly through his nose and turns his head straight again, defiantly staring up at the alpha in front of him.

Dean’s face is grabbed roughly with the same hand, and he tenses as he’s pulled forward. “I’m going to break you,” Zachariah snarls, leaning down so he’s right in front of Dean’s face. “One day, someday, I’m going to _break_ you.”

_Good fucking luck,_ Dean thinks, sneering defiantly.

“Let go of him,” a deep, southern voice drawls out from the doorway. Zachariah digs his nails into Dean’s face then lets go, stepping back with a disgruntled expression. “Get out.” The alpha clenches his jaw but spins on his heel and storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean turns to look at his trainer, Benny Lafitte. The alpha sighs and walks over to him, crouching down at his side. “Honestly, Dean,” he says softly, a little disappointed. “You’re going to damage your body if you don’t learn to use your safeword.” Benny reaches out, lifting Dean up into his arms with ease.

Dean whimpers as he’s pulled off of the unforgiving marble, and his legs shake. He glances at his knees, and sees that he was right. He is bleeding. There are also marks embedded into his skin that he knows are going to be there for at least the rest of the day. “Stubborn pup,” Benny mutters.

Benny easily carries him out the door and down the hallway. They’re heading out of the punishment wing, going towards the middle of the seven-story building. They’re on the second floor, left side. Benny takes him to the elevator just off to the right side of the grand stairs. He steps into the elevator when it comes and hits the button for the seventh floor.

Dean whines lowly, leaning his head onto Benny’s shoulder. “I know,” Benny replies. “You can walk and stand on your own, you’re a big pup. I’m going to carry you anyways.” Dean sighs and rubs his cheek on Benny’s smooth shirt. He smells good, warm and sweet. Benny is always a comfort to him.

Dean lives at Haven. It’s a gigantic place, the building a little longer and much wider than _two_ football fields. There are also multiple and huge gardens and play areas outside, along with an incredibly tall brick wall to block out anyone passing by - and keep certain people inside. Not that they would have any odd visitors considering they’re all smack in the middle of nowhere with hundreds of trees covering them from all sides. Even the gravel road leading towards Haven is barely accessible.

Haven is a secret place for rich alphas to come play with sweet little trained beta and omega pets; puppies, kitties, littles, bigs, subs, masochists, slaves and more. It’s expensive and well-funded and extremely exclusive. The people who run the show are picky about who they let inside, but even so, it’s always packed with alphas.

Dean had been sold to Haven when he was barely four years old. His father hadn’t been able to afford two children after his mom died in a tragic house fire, and somehow managed to sell Dean to Haven for twenty-five thousand dollars. Dean has a little brother, Sammy, he remembers. He always wonders what he looks like, what he acts like. Sammy is an alpha, he knows that. He remembers the day his little brother got scanned and tested for his designation.

The problem with Dean being sold at four years old was he was much too young to be trained. Haven begins training omegas at a later age than betas. Betas start training when they’re seven years old, omegas start when they’re ten. They’re more naturally obedient than a beta is, so it’s usually less work.

Dean spent six years being a well taught and cared for child thanks to his old handler, Missouri Moseley. Then he’d been introduced to Benny and his training had begun. Dean’s been trained in everything, and while he’s never admitted it out loud to anyone, he likes certain things more than others. Like being a puppy or kitty or...

Dean’s jolted from his thoughts by a sharp stinging in his knees. He blinks a few times, whining lowly, ears flattening against his head and tail twitching. He’s sitting on the sink counter in his bedroom’s bathroom. Benny is cleaning his knees with a wet cotton ball. “Hush.” Benny applies an ointment and places gauze on his knees and wraps them individually. Dean will heal quickly but it’s always nice to be helped along with the process with numbing creams.

“Now...” Benny clears his throat, putting the first-aid kit away and washing his hands. He picks Dean up again, carrying him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. It’s a simple and small room, with a dresser in the corner between the bedroom and bathroom doors, a twin bed and a large puppy bed at the foot of it. A tall bookshelf in the corner, opposite the twin bed, and a desk right beside it. There’s a small window too, between the bed and the bookcase.

Benny sets him down on the bed and sits beside him. He reaches forward and undoes the small circular tag that says  _‘puppy’_ from the thin black collar around his neck. He reaches over to the small pin board attached to the wall above Dean’s bed, hanging the little tag on the only empty pin. There are lots of tags on there, more than anyone else has. Dean’s special like that. “Why was Zachariah punishing you?”

Dean takes a moment to drop back onto the bed, arching and stretching out his body. He’s naked, but he doesn’t mind being like this in front of Benny, not anymore. He’s gotten used to it. He clears his throat, taking a moment to slip out of his pathetic excuse of a puppy headspace.

“I didn’t blow him,” Dean says, sitting up. He flattens his ears against his head, lowering his tail and tucking it against his thigh, waiting for Benny to scold him. He knows he’s not allowed to deny guests anything but he absolutely hates Zachariah and the fucker keeps coming back to play with him. No one likes to play with Dean, not anymore, not now that they all know he’s an untamable bratty little shit. The only other people that play with him are Abaddon and Alastair; while he can handle and even enjoy most of what Abaddon does, he loathes Alastair. The alpha’s nothing but a sick bastard.

Benny surprises him by not saying a word. He frowns though, and looks thoughtful. Dean sits up and slides backwards until his back hits the array of pillows he has lined up against the wall. He hates sleeping without his back to his pillows, he needs to be facing the room so he can watch constantly.

“Someone wants to buy you,” Benny blurts out all of a sudden. Dean stares at him with bewilderment, letting that information sink in. Someone wants to buy him? Dean laughs, throwing his head back against the wall with amusement.

“Guess April Fool’s day is early,” Dean manages to get out between laughs. 

“I’m serious, Dean,” Benny says, placing a hand on his leg and shaking him. Dean stops laughing and just stares at him.

“Who?” Is it Zachariah? It had to be. Who the hell else would want him? God, he hates Zachariah. The stupid dick loves to humiliate and demean and punish him. Dean knows he does it to break him but he also knows just how much Zachariah enjoys it. Sadistic asshole. Benny swallows, looking nervous. Dean tenses and watches him. Benny is usually calm, collected and incredibly stern. Dean realizes that he’s been acting off this whole time. Benny pulls his hand away and turns his face towards the door.

“A Novak,” he says after a moment. Dean can’t help his sharp inhale and the way his his heart stops for a brief second. The Novak’s are huge investors in Haven, they quite literally own most of this place. And they are notoriously strict and traditional. Even without the whole pet thing, being a beta or omega for them will mean staying at home, cleaning and cooking and serving the alpha of the house; their mate.

These days, omega and beta men and women are allowed to get an education and proper healthcare and insurance and all of that; they are given most of the same rights as alphas. Haven even allows their pets to get a complete education; public, middle and high school. It’s much more than most parents of omegas and betas give their children. Dean can even leave once he turns twenty-one years old and get into whatever University or college or school he wants to; and he will also be given a controlled cash flow and a place to live until he finds a mate.

But if he’s being bought by a Novak, that means his chance of getting a free life, of finding his brother, is gone. Dean clenches his jaw with anger. He only has a short while until he reaches twenty-one, he’s already nineteen years old. He wants to stay here, even if it means suffering with Zachariah and Alastair.

“They all came in this morning, and most of them picked a few pets for themselves. One of them asked for our most difficult pet, someone said your name and he... picked you.” Benny isn’t looking at him.

“Which one’s ‘he?’” Dean asks, clenching his hands. He has to know who’s going to buy him.

“Castiel Novak, the third eldest,” Benny says. Dean hasn’t heard much of him. He hopes he’s a decent person.

There are nine Novak children and their beta father and alpha mother. The father is Chuck Shurley, and the mother is Naomi Novak. Then comes Michael Novak, Raphael Cross, the twins Castiel and Jimmy Novak, Anna Milton, Balthazar Novak, Gadreel Novak, Hannah Novak and Samandriel Novak. Raphael and Anna are adopted children, but that doesn’t make them any less Novak.

“You’re going to be meeting Castiel tomorrow. Nine A.M. I’ll come wake you so you can shower and prepare yourself,” Benny says, standing up from the bed. He reaches over and runs his hand through Dean’s hair, rubbing his right ear gently. “It’ll be alright, Dean.” Benny pulls away and walks to the door, opening it and stepping out side. He closes it with one last glance back.

_I doubt it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. i did it. i hope you like the story so far. please comment or kudo if you do :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah the response was amazing! i'm so happy you guys liked this! thank you so much :) please enjoy this chapter too

Dean’s up earlier than usual. He tossed and turned all night long, nervous about today. Benny comes to get him around eight, and he undoes the small lock holding his leather collar closed so Dean can shower.  Dean takes his time, scrubbing himself sore and red, careful over his knees and shins but cleaning them as thoroughly as the rest of his body. They're almost healed but they still hurt. 

He dries off with one of the large green terrycloth towels, rubbing lotion onto his body afterwards. Dean looks at his flushed cheeks in the foggy mirror and sighs. Dean doesn’t get much facial - or body - hair as an omega but he does get a few strands of it. He takes a moment to shave the little bit, washing his face after.

Benny’s waiting for him in his bedroom, sitting on his bed and reading something on his phone. “You ready?” He asks, not looking up at Dean. Dean mutters a ‘yes’ and sits down on the edge of the bed. He looks around his small room, frowning as he thinks of leaving this place. It’s become his home, and he doesn’t want to go anywhere. Dean knows Benny will be disappointed if he’s extra bratty during the ‘interview’ process, which is just where the alpha asks the omega or beta’s handler about them and how they act; Dean can't be a brat but that doesn't mean he has to be good.

Dean glances at the clock on his wall. He took longer in the shower than he thought. It’s already eight forty-five. Benny gets up from the bed, tucking his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. “Novak is most likely already here,” Benny says, heading towards the shut bedroom door. He glances down at Dean’s knees, frowning. “Try kneeling, and if you can’t, sit with your legs crossed.”

Dean watches Benny open the door and step outside, pulling it closed behind himself. He groans and rubs his eyes with his palms, slumping his shoulders. He takes a minute to compose himself then stands up and shuffles into the middle of the room, facing the door. He carefully drops to his knees, frowning at the immediate throbbing that comes from his legs.

He settles back on his heels, his hands on his knees, back straight and head lowered. Dean closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. He just can’t believe he’s been bought. It’s so difficult for him to wrap his head around. He’s spent his whole life being a brat for a reason. Ever since he’d found out he can leave once he’s twenty-one, he’s been acting out so no one will buy him.

Dean runs a hand through his short and still wet hair, ruffling it up more. He drops the hand back down, clenching both hands into fists. Haven’s not a completely bad place. Sure, they have to do lots of weird, sexual things with underage people but it’s not that  _bad_. Most of it feels good, is good. It's all consensual. And Haven takes care of them, gives all the omegas and betas more freedom than they’d get from their families. Being sold to, being _accepted_ by, Haven is essentially seen as an honor these days.

Dean doesn’t want to leave, not right now. But he doesn’t have a say in it. He has no right to deny or stop anyone as long as he’s living under the roof of Haven. His papers, his documents, everything of his is currently Haven’s. And now that he’s being sold like... like a _pet_ , it’s all going to be his new alpha’s. He’s not going to get his freedom.

Dean scratches behind his human ear, the backs of his eyes stinging. He changed from his half-wolf form back to his human one last night. He misses being able to steadily thump his tail, it’s nice to be able to freely move it around, rub it over his back or sides, his thighs. It's a repetitive action that never fails to calm him down.

He doesn’t realize he’s slumping forward until he hears Benny’s familiar drawl from outside the door. He snaps up, sitting straight and tall and tense. Dean unclenches his hands, pressing the palms to his knees and resting back further on his feet, easing the pressure on his knees. Dean wishes he knelt on a cushion, or a small rug, something softer than the plain floor. It's too late now.

He keeps his head down and his eyes nearly closed, holding his breath as the door opens and Benny steps inside. An unfamiliar person steps in after him, his shoes tapping neatly against the wooden floor. There’s a moment of silence. The man is most likely taking in his barren room, and Dean's bare body as well.

Dean breathes out slowly, trying not to move his chest too much. He inhales at the same pace, closing his eyes for a second then opening them wide. He just barely sees Benny’s familiar black sneakers and he also sees the tips of the other man’s, _Castiel’s_ , shiny black dress boots.

Benny clears his throat. He moves over to the dresser, picking up the only items resting on top of it, three thick black leather journals. They’re reports on Dean. One journal belonged to Missouri, documenting the time when she raised him. The other two belong to Benny, and are full of descriptions of his training and play sessions, his endless punishments.

“These are his records,” Benny says, most likely handing them over to Castiel. The man makes a quiet noise, a humming like sound. Dean hears a rustle of paper. It’s followed by more silence.

“Why does he have three?” Castiel asks, his voice deep and rough. Dean’s heart thump-thumps faster in his chest. Castiel sounds sexy. His voice drips with patience, serenity; it’s... soothing. Dean lifts his head a little, so he can see their legs clearly. Dress slacks, black. And Benny’s light blue jeans.

“Dean’s...” Benny hesitates, resting back against the wall. “Dean’s a bit special. He came to us when he was four years old. He was too young to train at the time so we had one of our older omega workers take care of him. His training began the same time as all the other omega’s but he’s never properly slipped into a headspace no matter what we do.”

“I see,” Castiel drawls. He walks over to Dean, stepping just in front of him, pulling his pants up to give himself leg room as he crouches down. He holds the books in his left hand, lifting his right and tapping the side of Dean’s jaw with his index and middle fingers. Dean sees a thin blue tie dangle down between Castiel’s thighs, and a white dress shirt and black blazer on his upper body.

Dean doesn’t lift his head.

Castiel chuckles and slips two warm fingers under his chin, his thumb pressing under Dean's lip. He forces Dean to lift his head up and stares him right in the eye. Deep blue eyes, warm and very intense. Dean’s heart stutters in his chest. Benny continues from behind Castiel, “We’re obligated to record each and every moment with the-" Benny clears his throat, "-the pets. One book was kept by his omega caretaker. The other two are written by me. Most pets only have one but Dean’s been so defiant that he’s earned more one-on-one time than anyone. A lot of painful one-on-one time.”

Castiel drops his hand and opens the first book, studying the page. Dean glances down, recognizing his caretaker’s handwriting. He still sees Missouri almost everyday, mostly at night when they’re all relaxing in front of the TV in the common room. She’s the closest person Dean has to a mother now; he loves her. He’ll miss her a lot. “It says here he was mute for the first year.” Castiel pauses. “Why is that?” Castiel asks. Dean waits for Benny to answer, then realizes Castiel is speaking to him. He swallows and clenches his jaw. He's not answering.

Benny sighs after a few moments. “Dean’s a smart kid. He remembers just about everything from before. His... his mother died in a house fire, we’ve never gotten confirmation from him or his father but from everything that’s happened we believe he watched her die. After that his father sold him to Haven for twenty-five thousand dollars, so he could take care of his infant brother at the time.” Dean’s chest aches and his stomach turns unpleasantly.

Benny knows he hates talking or hearing about his parents. His father gave him away, and while he is happy Sammy was able to be taken care of, he needed his dad. He was _four fucking years old._ There were probably other options. He could have gotten a better job, he could have gotten a small loan, asked a friend or family member. He didn’t have to sell Dean. He didn't have to abandon him.

Dean drops his eyes to his lap, digging his nails into his legs and leaning forward on his knees. It’s not much of a sting of pain but it’s enough to calm him. “Look at me,” Castiel says. Dean digs his nails in harder. Castiel lifts his hand and Dean braces himself for a slap. It doesn’t come.

Castiel cups his face gently, making him lift his head up, his eyes following. Castiel’s eyes don’t hold any anger or sympathy, there’s zero pity in their depths. But there is disappointment. For a brief moment Dean thinks it’s towards him, but then he realizes that while he’s been stubborn he hasn’t done anything to disappoint Castiel. It’s directed at his father.

“You poor thing,” Castiel says quietly, almost empathetically. Dean drops his eyes, tilting his face towards Castiel’s hand. His nose twitches as he sniffs at the alpha’s wrist, and he barely holds back a shiver. He smells good, so much different than all the alphas that come and go everyday. He smells like spices, cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg. He smells like happiness and warmth. He smells like...  _home_.

He doesn’t look up as Castiel strokes his thumb over his cheek. He closes his eyes and turns his face away from his hand, leaning back. Castiel drops his hand and stands up, turning away from him. “Collect your things, Dean,” Castiel says. “I’ll be back to get you in one hour.”

And just like that, Dean’s last chance of freedom is officially gone. 

* * *

Benny gives Dean a small grey suitcase for his meager belongings. He’s not allowed to bring all of his stuff but he does pack his favorite things. Like his Vonnegut book collection and the Harry Potter series. He also packs his newest coloring book and pencil crayons, red car shaped squeaky toy, and small container of his favorite LEGO pieces. The one item he still has from his father, a small toy car resembling a 1967 Chevy four-door Impala. After some hesitating, he packs his big and fluffy fox plushie and the blue blanket that used to belong to his little brother.

He doesn’t need any clothes, Benny says. Dean doesn’t have many types of clothing anyways; he just has a few lounge pants, many socks, a couple pairs of boxers, dozens of panties for when he’s playing with guests, and a few shirts. He wears his nicest pair of pajama pants, which also happen to be his favorite. Black, dark red and white checkered pants with two front pockets and one right pocket in the back. He wears a shirt too, a soft white one that hugs his body.

Dean sighs and sits down on his bed, looking around his room. Benny left him alone after the first ten minutes. He’s been in here almost an hour now, and Dean’s just waiting for Castiel to come collect him. Or whatever it is that happens. He’s not too sure on all the details because he never pays attention when stuff like this happens.

He closes his eyes and slumps his shoulders. He has a sinking feeling that he’s going to be with Castiel for a very long time, and just hopes that he’s a genuinely nice alpha. He seems like he is, and that makes Dean feel a small amount of relief, but lots of people are fake these days. Dean’s met a couple of people that have been nice to him when around other people, only to hurt him deeply once they’re alone.

A soft knock comes from his door.

Dean breathes deeply and stands up, shuffling to the door and opening it. He lowers his head and steps to the side, respectfully keeping his hands at his sides. It’s Castiel, he knows from the shoes, and he’s alone. Dean swallows, watching the alpha’s feet move as he walks into the room.

“Shut the door please, Dean,” Castiel says softly, stopping next to Dean’s bed. Dean closes the door and turns his back to it, curling his toes into the cool wooden floor and waiting. Dean hears an airy chuckle and bristles, holding his breath. Why is he laughing? “I like your fox,” Castiel says, sitting down on the bed beside his suitcase. Oh.

Dean winces inwardly, remembering he forgot to close the suitcase. “What’s it’s name?” Castiel asks warmly. Dean shuffles on his feet, wanting to rush over and close the suitcase, protecting his prized possessions from Castiel’s curious eyes. Castiel is quiet, and Dean realizes it’s because he’s waiting for an answer.

He licks his lips, clearing his throat and thinking. Castiel’s had his interview with Dean and Benny, most likely already signed all the papers and bought him. Haven has a no return policy. Dean can take any punishment his words get him. Dean lifts his head, squares his shoulders, glaring across the room at Castiel. The alpha blinks a few times, leaning back and looking substantially surprised at Dean’s sudden change in attitude.

Dean stalks over to him, grabbing the top of the suitcase and zipping it up. He stands up tall and stiff after, looking down at Castiel with a sneer. “None of your damn business,” he finally snaps, crossing his arms over his chest and arching his left eyebrow.

Castiel keeps blinking at him slowly. A small, pleased smile slowly makes its way onto his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his amusement. “Okay,” Castiel murmurs, pressing his lips together firmly to contain his previous smile. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Dean freezes and deflates immediately. Why is he apologizing? Alphas never apologize. They get angry, yell and punish you. Dean’s eyebrows furrow together with confusion, and he glances between Castiel and the suitcase a few times, settling his eyes on the bag. “Can you forgive me?”

“I-” Dean clenches his jaw and takes a step back. His stomach turns with confusion, and he feels his throat tighten. “Yeah,” he mutters, slowly dropping his arms to his sides, gripping the sides of his pants in his hands.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says. Castiel turns his head, looking at the pin board above Dean’s bed. Benny attached his collar on there earlier, right above the tags. “Do you enjoy all of those?” Dean studies the tags. He has the most out of everyone at Haven because they could never find anything that Dean genuinely enjoyed.

Dean does enjoy some of them though. He just never lets his guard down. He can’t. He shouldn’t. He shrugs in answer to Castiel. He likes his tags, it helps him differentiate between alone time and other times. He doesn’t enjoy being a ‘whore,’ as one of them says. Or a sadist.. Or a ‘toilet.'

Dean shudders with disgust as he remembers that last one. It happened early in his training, something they wanted to check to see if he enjoyed. He’d been made to kneel in a bathroom, and the moment a woman had walked in and started to pee on him, he’d safeworded and ran the hell out so fast that he sprained his ankle.

Dean doesn’t have anything against people that enjoy that sort of thing. He doesn’t enjoy it. And he never will. “Pick the tags you like off of there,” Castiel says. Dean looks over at him, and sees that Castiel is watching him with a considering expression. “We will make your own personalized versions.”

Dean hesitates a second, watching him suspiciously. Castiel’s face is carefully becoming blank, his eyes included. Dean crawls onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He’s on the other side of the suitcase. He settles on his knees just to the side of the pin board. He picks off several tags, more than half that are on the board, and turns to look at Castiel. 

The alpha smiles at him, reaching into his pants and pulling out a smartphone. He clicks a few buttons, pulling up the camera feature. He pats the top of Dean’s suitcase. Dean licks his lips and carefully sets the tags down on the suitcase, making sure they all face the right way. His name is on the underside side of the tags, and the other side holds the name of an act or kink that he enjoys. He kind of hopes Castiel’s okay with them.

Castiel takes a few pictures of the tags. Then pockets his phone and stands up. “I’m going to carry your suitcase,” he says, brushing the tags onto the bed. “Follow me.” There’s no option left for Dean. Well, he could stay in place but what’s the point of that? He doesn’t belong here anymore. He'll just be forcibly removed.

Castiel grabs the handle of the suitcase, stepping away from the bed and heading to the door. Dean stands up as well and shuffles after him, sliding his hands into his pockets. He sees other omegas and betas that he recognizes in the hallway, and all of them immediately lower their heads. It’s something they were all taught to do in the beginning, to show respect to their trainers, caretakers and the alphas that visit.

Dean walks a little behind Castiel, not knowing if it would be alright for him to fall into step beside him. He follows him down the stairs. He would much rather take the elevator down than walk seven flights of stairs. At least it’s going down and not up. He hates going up one flight of stairs. Seven? Hell no.

Castiel leads him to the front door, where he sets down the suitcase and takes the offered beige trench coat from one of Haven's caretakers. He turns to Dean, wrapping it around his shoulders and pulling it closed. Dean frowns and slips his arms into the coat sleeves, pulling it tight around himself. It smells like Castiel. Dean looks around the front entryway and finds that it's deserted of people, which is confusing considering it’s mid-morning. He doesn't have the time to think about it because the next thing he knows, the caretaker is opening the front door for them to leave.

 _Goodbye,_ Dean thinks as he steps out into the cool early Autumn air with Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for all the mistakes. i hope you still like the story. please comment if you do :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much! i'm so happy you like this!

Leaving Haven takes a while. They take a cab to an airport, and from there a horrible, _absolutely horrible_ , plane ride to somewhere nearly across the country. It’s long and tiring and Dean naps badly. After the plane lands, they get their things and get into a car and drive for nearly an hour and a half; Dean naps again, just as badly.

Now Dean stands on cold wood, wiggling his bare feet. He doesn’t own any shoes but he wishes he wore a pair of thick socks or slippers. Something that can protect his feet from the freezing ground. He lifts his head, looking at the spacious front garden. It’s simple and elegant, with healthy grass and soft colored flowers. There’s a stone pathway in the center of the garden, leading up to a large wooden porch and a front door that Dean is standing in front of.

Castiel is standing in the driveway, pulling Dean’s small suitcase from the trunk of his old car. It’s a well-kept one but Dean doesn’t recognize it. He’s never seen it anywhere online before and he’s not willing to ask what kind of car it is. Castiel smiles at him as he walks over, juggling his keys in his free hand.

Dean steps to the side, letting Castiel unlock the front door and push it open. Dean hesitates as Castiel turns to him, clearly expecting him to go inside. Dean ducks his head and steps inside the house. He was taught to always let the alpha go first. He feels guilty. The feeling dissipates quickly. Castiel steps inside after him, closing the door and turning the small lock on the door handle. He leaves the chain undone. Dean shrugs out of the trench coat and hands it to him.

The entryway isn’t huge but it’s not tiny either. It’s a decent size, with a closet to the right and an open doorway to the kitchen just beyond that. Across the front door is the backdoor and while it’s clearly seen from where Dean’s standing, it’s definitely not close. To the left of the backdoor, the right of Dean, is a set of stairs going up and going down, and Dean thinks there’s a door just in front of the stairs going up too but he can’t see from this angle. On the other side of the backdoor is another open doorway that he thinks leads to the dining room.

Dean shuffles forward, his feet moving from plain white tiles to hardwood flooring as he does. He pokes his head into the doorway across the kitchen one, finding a huge family room with off-white walls. There’s a big gray sectional tucked into the far left corner with multiple pillows, and a couple seats placed around it. There’s also a TV mounted on the wall across from it, a shelf with a few different game stations below it. And a window with the drapes closed against the right wall.

It’s simple but for some reason it looks like a family lives here, although Dean remembers one of the other omegas at Haven saying Castiel is single. Castiel steps up behind him, settling a hand on Dean’s far right shoulder. “Do you like it?” he asks quietly, thumb rubbing against his back. Dean swallows and stands up straighter, nodding.

“My brother’s daughter likes to come over a lot. We usually sit and play games all day,” Castiel says, chuckling. “You’ll meet her soon. I think you’ll like each other.” Castiel pats Dean’s shoulder and steps back. “Are you hungry? Or would you like to put your things away?”

“Both?” Dean says awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders. Castiel nods. He gestures Dean to follow him, heading towards the staircases towards the back of the house. Dean picks up his suitcase and walks after him. He’s right, there is a door just in front of the top stairs. Dean heads upstairs, looking around the simple place. It’s carpet up here, and there are five bedrooms from what Dean can see.

There’s the master bedroom right across the stairs, and it looks huge. There’s also another room along the side wall and to the left of the stairs, adjacent the master bedroom. Castiel opens the door to this bedroom, gesturing Dean inside. Dean shuffles in, aware that Castiel stays in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“This is your safe room,” Castiel says. Dean sets the suitcase down in the empty white room and turns to look at him. Castiel’s arms are crossed over his chest and one of his legs are bent. Castiel points at the door. There’s a number pad on it, just above a long handle. “You can choose a code.”

“Why do I need a safe room?” Dean asks, rocking on his heels and looking at the balcony window on the wall opposite the door. This bedroom is at least three, _four_ , times the size of his old room. Castiel is silent behind him, probably thinking. Dean walks over to the window. It’s high but not _that_ high up from the ground, and the door is lockable so that’s nice.

“If you’re ever upset or you would just like to be alone, this is where you can come. You’re free to turn it into whatever you want, a second bedroom, a library, an art studio, anything,” Castiel says slowly from behind him. Dean turns around and sees he’s still in the doorway. “I will never enter this room without your explicit permission, and I will never... _punish_ or otherwise harm you while in this room.”

“Decorate it however you like,” Castiel continues, stepping back and looking into the open master bedroom. “You can leave your suitcase here or bring it into the bedroom. Whatever you prefer.” Castiel steps into the master bedroom, disappearing from Dean’s view. Dean doesn’t bring his suitcase as he follows after the alpha, leaving the door open to the safe room.

It’s interesting and thoughtful but it sets Dean on the edge. Why does he need a safe room? It’ll be nice to get some alone time without being bothered but he’s here as Castiel’s pet, he’s here to serve him without a complaint so... why?

The bedroom is long and wide with creamy-white colored walls and a huge king bed in the center with deep blue covers, a set of floor to ceiling windows against the far wall, drapes open. The windows don’t lead to a balcony like the one in the safe room. There’s also a sitting area across the bedroom door. A TV mounted on the wall across the bed, just to the right of  it, closer to the bedroom door. And beside the TV, a few feet away, is another door.

It leads to a huge bathroom, Dean finds out, with a big glass shower and an even bigger tub next to it. There’s a toilet tucked behind a wall and two sinks in a marble counter on the other side of said wall. There’s an open closet too, it’s not huge but it’s a walk-in. It has multiple suits and jeans and drawers in it, and there’s even extra space which Dean is assuming is for his things. There’s a door here too.

“Do you like it? You’ll be staying in here with me, if you choose to not sleep in your safe room, of course,” Castiel says, leaning on the marble sink counter, one leg bent and resting against the cabinets and drawers below the sink. Dean opens the door in the closet and realizes it leads out into the hallway. Huh.

Dean nods in reply to Castiel, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the man. “We can go shopping later, after we eat something,” Castiel says, pushing himself away from the counter. “You can get some clothes, toys or whatever you feel you need, and you can even start furnishing your safe room.”

Castiel clears his throat. “Then we can talk about how this will work.” Dean squints at him from across the room, clenching his jaw. “Expectations, rules, punishments, rewards, play time, etcetera.” And there it is. Just what he’s been waiting for. Dean can’t help but huff resentfully.

There’s no doubt in Dean’s mind that he’s going to fail all expectations and break every single rule Castiel has, and earn any and all of the alpha’s punishments. He’s not deserving of rewards, he knows this. There will be no rewards given to him. Play time is something he knows, it’s easy and he can do it as long as Castiel is decent to him.

Castiel looks away, walking back into the bedroom. Dean follows him out of the room and into the hallway. Castiel skips down the stairs but Dean stays up. The alpha looks back at him but doesn’t say anything and disappears around the corner. Dean walks back into the safe room.

There’s a door along the right wall. He opens it, and finds a second room. It’s roughly the size of his bedroom at Haven, and Dean realizes it’s as long as the side of the master bedroom wall. That’s where the space went. It’s also dark in here. Dean touches the wall, flicking the light switch. It’s as empty as the safe room, no window.

He turns the light off and closes the door, walking towards the balcony. He unlocks it and pulls the doors open. Dean shivers at the cool air that immediately hits him but walks out anyways. It’s empty too. There’s a nice view from the side though, of part of the backyard and a forest beyond the back gate, the sky too.

Dean takes a minute to gather himself. This whole thing is overwhelming. He’s never been outside the walls of Haven before, and seeing all this new ground is weird. Doing all these new things is weird. There are so many house and people and things he’s only ever see on the internet. It’s terrifying and he wishes he was just back at Haven, where everything was scheduled and mostly calm.

He leans his elbows on top of the railing, dropping his chin onto his right fist. He looks down below and shudders, immediately turning away. He’s definitely not a fan of heights but it’s not as bad as the airplane had been. His bedroom at Haven was high up but he could barely see anything out of his window so height never really mattered to him before.

Dean pushes himself up off the railing, walking back into the safe room and closing the doors, locking them securely. He walks over to his suitcase, sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed. He turns it over onto its side, unzipping it and flipping it up and open. Dean stares at his things, a small frown making its way onto his face.

Dean reaches forward and picks up his fox, stroking the soft and well-kept orange-brown fur of his plushie. He hugs it close to his chest, burying his face in Squishy’s fur. He still smells like laundry detergent and Missouri. God, he misses her so much already. He wants her back, wants to go back to her. He wants to hug her and never let go. She’s the only parent he’s ever really had, and he needs her now.

“Dean?” Castiel says softly, hesitantly, knocking on the door.

He sits up straight and shoves Squishy back into the suitcase, silently apologizing for being so rough. Dean feels his face heat up but he ignores it. He shifts onto his knees and quickly shuts the suitcase, fidgeting with the zippers. His heart is beating fast in his chest, and his throat is tight. He’s embarrassed, and he’s worried.

“I made you a sandwich,” Castiel says after a few silent minutes. Dean licks his lips and stands up. “Come downstairs and eat.” Castiel shifts outside the door for a few seconds then sighs and turns on his heel, walking down the stairs. Dean sits there for a few minutes, calming down.

His stomach growls softly. He stands up and walks out of the room, heading for where he remembers the kitchen is.

* * *

The mall is huge.

That’s Dean’s first thought the moment they park and Castiel turns the car off. Dean feels anxiety curl unpleasantly in his belly but does his best to ignore it. He steps out of the car and shuts the door, self-consciously brushing his clothes off. They’re not dirty. And they’re also Castiel’s.

A simple pair of a slightly too tight jeans and a thick grey sweater to ward off the chill of the evening; Castiel even gave him socks and a pair of worn sneakers that are a little too small on his feet. He’s still wearing his own shirt.

“Come on, Dean,” Castiel says, playing with the car keys in his hand. Dean slides his hands into the sweater pockets, walking over to the alpha. Castiel pockets his keys and starting weaving his way through the cars, guiding Dean towards the doors leading inside of the mall.

Dean looks around intently, doing his best to take in everything his eyes find. The moment they step inside the mall, Dean freezes. He’s not normally so anxious but there are so many people. His heart pounds in his chest, pulsing in his ears and drowning out the sound of conversation and laughter and music.

Castiel places a hand in the middle of his back, gently guiding him forward. Dean stumbles a little then regains his footing and walks with him, shrugging his hand away. Castiel leads him through the mass of people. As they pass by shops, Dean sees a couple of collars and scantily clad people; he even sees a mostly naked person trying on clothes in the middle of a store. Dean shudders. He wonders if they’re an omega or a beta, leaning more towards omega.

Castiel brings him to a series of clothing stores. “What would you like to look for first?” Castiel asks, standing in the middle of all the stores and looking at Dean.

Dean looks around, finding each shop caters to something different. One is full of only jeans and another is full of different underwear; shirts, jackets, pajamas, socks and shoes, and dress clothing. “Jeans,” he replies, walking into said store. Castiel trails after him.

Castiel’s family is rich, and by extension so is he. Dean doesn’t want to waste money but he doesn’t exactly care if he wastes Castiel’s. He feels a little joy as he thinks about spending an insane amount of Castiel’s money. But then he feels guilty. He doesn’t even need clothes. He shouldn’t spend money on things he doesn’t need.

“How about these?”

Dean turns around, and sees Castiel holding up a pair of loose dark blue jeans with stylized rips in it. They look nice. He nods hesitantly, watching Castiel toss two pairs over his left forearm, then turn back to the rest of the jeans hanging around them. Dean looks around, seeing a pair of black jeans a couple feet away. They’re also loose but they don’t have rips in them. He likes these a little more.

Castiel appears beside him, checking the sizes before taking two pairs of the black jeans off the bar and tossing them on top of the blue jeans. Dean doesn’t even want to know how Castiel knows his size. “I don’t need anymore than that,” Dean says, seeing Castiel looking for more. It’s already four pairs and they look expensive. “It’s not like I’m going to be wearing them often.”

Castiel freezes and turns to stare at him, squinting with confusion. “Dean, you’re-” he starts, then pauses. “One more pair, then we can go to another store.” Dean nods again. Castiel grabs a pair of light blue jeans and holds them up to Dean. They’re nice too. Castiel puts them over his arm. “Do you want to come up to the cash with me or stay here?”

“Here.”

“Okay.” Castiel walks around him, heading towards a check-out station. Dean pads over to the entrance and rocks on his heels, waiting for Castiel to finish and come back. Dean glances over at Castiel, watching as the lady scans the items and tries to start a deep conversation with him. Castiel just looks awkward, nodding and smiling tightly.

Today is going to be a very long day.

* * *

It’s very late by the time they get home, and Dean’s utterly exhausted. Castiel parks in the garage along the side of the house. Dean takes half the bags from the trunk, carrying them towards the only door. It’s locked.

Castiel fumbles with his keys, unlocking it and opening the door, reaching inside and flicking a light on. Dean steps inside after him, looking around and frowning. He doesn’t know what room this is. It looks like a storage room, with boxes everywhere.

Castiel closes the garage door and locks it. There’s a pathway from the garage door to the other side of the room where another door is. Castiel walks through it, opening the door and stepping inside. “Coming?” Dean follows after him, seeing that it leads to the door that had been hidden behind the top stairs. Castiel sets his bags down and takes his shoes, putting them neatly in the corner beside the back door. His coat follows, getting hung on a hook above the shoes. Dean does the same with his items.

Castiel sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You look tired,” he says. “Go sleep. I’ll lock up and bring the bags up.” Dean huffs at the order but Castiel ignores him and starts closing the drapes and locking the doors. Dean grabs all the bags. It’s a little awkward but he carries them all upstairs.

He pauses outside the safe room, glancing inside. His suitcase is still there. Castiel bought him a king bed set for the room and a matching nightstand and dresser and a shitload of fluffy pillows after he asked for only three. They’re arrive tomorrow in the early evening. Dean walks over to the door that leads to the closet. He turns the handle of the door but it doesn’t move. Locked. He rolls his eyes and walks into the bedroom, through the bathroom and into the closet. He sets the bags down and looks around, finding extra hangers practically everywhere.

“Dean?” He turns around to find Castiel frowning at him. “I told you I would bring them up.” He looks a little disappointed. Like he genuinely wanted to bring them up and help Dean.

Dean shrugs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not so delicate that I can’t bring a few bags upstairs,” he replies. Castiel doesn’t say anything. Dean watches as the alpha silently walks back into the bathroom. Is he mad?  _Whatever._ Dean cracks his knuckles and starts unpacking the clothes. Time to put them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter seems really rough to me but i think it's mostly okay. sorry for all the mistakes, it would be great if you could point them out so i can fix them! i hope you still like the story. please comment if you do! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the wonderful comments! :) please enjoy!

Dean sleeps terribly that night. Squirming and panicking, glancing around every time he wakes up like something might come get him if he doesn’t keep watch. It’s irrational, he knows this, especially as Castiel snores softly beside him; a strong, relaxed presence. Dean just hates sleeping in the middle of a room. He needs his pillows, his back against the wall. He needs his security.

Castiel is up at six A.M. thanks to his phone's alarm. He climbs quietly out of the bed, seeming to not realizing that Dean is awake. He showers quickly with the bathroom door closed. Dean sits up in bed, turning the nightstand light on and curling his knees to his chest. He yawns, his eyes hurting and his head pounding.

Castiel comes back out of the bathroom dressed in a dark grey suit with a red tie. He pauses when he sees Dean’s awake, but smiles anyways. “Good morning,” he says, adjusting his tie. “What are you doing up? You look tired.”

Dean shrugs in reply, looking towards the open windows. The sun is slowly rising, lighting the room up but it’s not enough for him to turn the light off yet. “You should go back to bed,” Castiel says, looking down at his left wrist where a nice silver watch rests. “I’m leaving now. I’m usually back around six but I might come home earlier today. We can talk then.”

He watches Castiel shift on the spot. Castiel picks up his phone, wallet and keys, pocketing them. “Goodbye, Dean,” Castiel says softly, offering him a tiny smile before walking out of the room. Dean watches him leave, listening as he gathers his things downstairs. He hears the car start and the garage door open and then close as Castiel drives away.

Then he stands up and walks to the closet. He finds the extra comforters at the very top of the shelves and takes two, returning to the bedroom. He takes the two sleeping pillows from his side of the bed, and a bunch of the extra pillows that cover the bed when it’s fixed with him. Dean drags everything into the safe room, tossing them on the floor in the far bottom left corner. He makes a small bed, putting the pillows against the wall and getting more from the bedroom to make it even softer and comfier and safer.

Dean turns the light off in the bedroom and shuffles into the safe room, closing the door most of the way, leaving it only a crack open. He opens his suitcase and pulls out Squishy, walking over to his makeshift bed and climbing in, cuddling his plushie and sighing. Now, with pillows pressed against the wall and his back, he can relax and sleep.

* * *

He sleeps well into the afternoon, waking up after four. Castiel said he comes home at six so Dean’s fine. Dean showers and dresses in one of the plaid pajama pants he'd picked out at the mall, white and blue colors, and a simple white t-shirt. They're soft and warm and he likes them very much. Then he cleans up his mess of a bed, putting his plushie back in his suitcase and shoving the suitcase into the corner of the room where he’d slept. The bed in the master bedroom is fixed up minus the pillows he stole but he doesn’t remember fixing it. He probably did. He’s just forgetful.

Dean stretches his arms and walks downstairs, wanting to investigate a little more. He looks into the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen by a doorway. It’s open and nice and he likes it. The kitchen is huge with large steel appliances and simple light colors. Perfect for cooking and baking. Dean heads into the family room.

He stops in the doorway, hesitating. Castiel is laying on the sectional, ankles crossed, one hand on his stomach and the other behind his head. He’s not sleeping, just staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. He turns his head slowly, blinking at Dean.

A small smile makes its way onto his face. “Hello, Dean,” he says, voice sounding a little rougher than Dean remembers. “Sleep well?” There’s a teasing note to his tone.

“Yep,” Dean says, walking into the room. He sits down far away from Castiel, nearly at the other end of the sectional. Castiel yawns, covering his mouth with the hand that had been on his stomach, and sits up. He rolls his shoulders and slumps back against the sofa. He looks tired.

“Shall we talk?” Castiel says after a silent minute, looking over at Dean.

Dean eyes him carefully, sitting up straighter and preparing himself. “Talk,” he says in reply, watching Castiel carefully. The alpha presses his lips together for a second then nods, turning his head away.

“Kinks are something we can delve into and dissect later in the following weeks. I just wanted to say that I’ve been informed of the kinks you prefer, and Benny has updated me on the ways you enjoy them. The tags have helped confirm your preferences. Is there anything you want to add right now regarding kinks?”

Dean stays silent. He doesn’t have anything to add. If Castiel already knows what he enjoys, if he even really knows, then he doesn’t need to say anything. Benny knows a few things he enjoys, and Dean sort of outed himself by showing Castiel the tags he likes. And they're going to talk more in detail about it later, oddly enough. Dean's just here to do what Castiel likes. He doesn't understand why Castiel feels the need to talk about kinks. It's a waste of time.

Castiel runs a hand through his hair, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Okay, then. I don’t have many rules or expectations but I do have a few. They go a bit hand in hand.”

“And what are your rules, _master_?” Dean can't help but say, turning his head away as Castiel turns to look at him. That’s what Castiel is. His _master_. Dean's partly disgusted, and very horrified that he sort of likes the idea of having a master.

“Respect,” Castiel says immediately following Dean’s taunt. “I would like respect from you, Dean. You may feel that I don’t deserve it - as I probably do not, and that’s understandable, but I would very much like it.” Dean snorts and can almost feel the disapproval rolling off of Castiel in waves. “Since you’ll mostly be staying home most of the day, I expect you to keep the house clean. I will help you, of course, when I can.”

Sure, right, of course he will.

“I-I don’t expect you to walk around naked all the time, not like at Haven. You’re not here to be put on display for me at all times or for any guests, definitely not for any guests,” Castiel continues, hesitating as he speaks. “I don’t want you to stay home all day,” Castiel pauses. “This is entirely up to you but I think you would enjoy going out and making friends. Doing something.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll run away?”

“If you run away then...” Castiel runs a hand through his already messy hair, scratching the back of his neck. “If you would like to leave, Dean, I will provide you with whatever you want. I’m not going to force you to remain here with me. I would hate for you to feel like you’re obligated to be here just because I...” Castiel winces, “ _paid_ for you and took you from that terrible place.”

“It’s not a bad place,” Dean defends immediately, digging his nails into his palms. “It’s weird but it’s not bad.” Castiel looks at him with disbelief then drops his eyes to the floor.

“I am sorry for buying you, Dean. My family was hounding me about getting one of the... _people_ at Haven and I- didn't know what else to do. I didn't want a mindless omega... companion. I- It’s wrong, it’s-” Castiel sighs. “Before-...” Castiel looks frustrated, then the expression disappears. “Do you want to leave, Dean?” Castiel looks at him, eyes dark and serious. Dean is unable to look away. “I can give you whatever you want. I can help you- help you do anything you want to. I won't leave you stranded out there. You can go back to school and-”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” Dean interrupts. Castiel deflates. Dean frowns.

“No, of course not. You’re your own person,” Castiel says, smiling sadly. “You are a human, you are a man and you are entirely capable of doing what you want to.” Dean’s curious as to why he didn’t mention the fact that Dean’s an omega.

“I’m not going to leave,” Dean says. “Not now, anyways.” He needs time. To think and plan and maybe somehow get in touch with his brother, see if he even wants to meet him. Dean hopes he does. He wants to see the man, the alpha, his brother grew up to be. He hopes he’s a good person, that he’s a caring alpha that realizes that an omega or beta is a human too and they need to be treated like such; not like pets or trash.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, rubbing his eyes and yawning again. “Right. Um... Deciding to stay with me means a few things, Dean. As I said, I don't want a mindless companion. I want you obedient, submissive, but not mindless. I would like to see you in a collar but it's up to you if you wish to wear it. I have one already, if you would like to wear it.”

“I’m used to collars,” Dean says, shrugging. They’re comforting, in a sense. They help keep him calm, grounded. Well, if he lets himself relax and trust the person playing with him. Which has only happened about eleven or twelve times since he’s started this, and only with Benny.

“Right,” Castiel murmurs. “Punishments.” Dean winces inwardly. “Benny told me you respond more to a verbal punishment rather than a physical one. Is that true?” Dean clenches his jaw. Fucking Benny, spilling everything. He's obligated to, Dean knows, but still. “If you’re bad, Dean, you do something that I don’t approve of, I will spank you. Whether you feel it’s deserving or not. I won’t do it hard, the real punishment will be the anger, the disappointment, the feelings of displeasure you will have brought me to express.”

Dean scoffs, quietly. Castiel clears his throat. Dean feels like it's a warning. “Those emotions will be heavily expressed in a verbal form while I spank you. I’m not here to scar you, Dean, if you have a problem with what I do or say, you have every right to use your safeword. Which is?” Castiel prompts him, raising an eyebrow and clearly expecting him to fill the following silence with his own voice. “Dean.” Castiel sits forward. “Please.”

“Edelweiss,” he says reluctantly.

“Edelweiss,” Castiel repeats, lips twitching as he thinks about the word. It's an odd looking flower - to Dean - but the word looks and sounds nice. “I’m not always going to punish you with a spanking, Dean. Sometimes...” Castiel thinks for a second. “Sometimes I’ll make you stand in a corner or ground you and take something away, something that you won’t like or enjoy or forget for a while.”

Dean frowns, sitting back. He’ll hate the punishment, he probably won’t forget it. He never forgets any of his punishments, not really. He pushes them out of his mind, yeah, but he doesn’t forget them.

“Now, my favorite,” Castiel says, sounding amused. Dean glances over at him, and sees that he’s smiling softly at him. “Rewards.” Why would rewards be his favorite topic? “I understand that you enjoy praise. As well as gentle touches and, well... overall care. Is that right?”

Dean swallows thickly. Castiel studies him for a moment, then his smile widens. “Good,” the alpha murmurs. “That’s good. There will be lots of that. There will be presents, as well. And... _other things_.” Castiel seems amused. He glances down at his left wrist, his watch glistening in the light. As he does, there’s a heavy knock at the front door followed by a doorbell. “We can finish this conversation and talk more about kinks and play time later. Your things are here.“

Dean watches Castiel stand and brush off his clothes. He walks towards Dean, reaching a hand out and running his fingers through Dean’s still damp hair as he passes. Dean blinks, turning his head and watching Castiel turn to the side. That felt nice.

As the door opens and voices fill the air, Dean thinks. He’s a little uncomfortable with the fact that Castiel knows all of his wants and secrets. It’s nothing too different from Haven, where the alphas are told everything they need to know about the pet they’re going to play with.

Except Castiel knows _everything_. He knows of Dean’s early childhood and his - _horrifyingly_ \- submissive attitude in the beginning of his training. He knows about his transgressions, all about his punishments; he knows every little disobedient thing Dean’s done. He knows what he likes, what he wants to do, what he feels sometimes. He’s an open book to Castiel, and it’s terrifying.

Dean knows next to nothing about him. He knows his full name, he’s not sure his exact age but he figures it’s early thirties, he knows little about his family; he never really cared to remember when people brought them up. He doesn’t know what Castiel enjoys sexually. If he’s abusive. Okay, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to abuse Dean but he could never know for sure. What if he’s an alcoholic? Or a drug addict? Maybe that’s why he’s rarely spoken about when people bring up the Novak name.

“Dean?” Castiel asks. “May we go in your safe room?” He turns his head, looking over at him and two tall men. Dean nods. “Thank you. Where do you want the bed?” Dean thinks about it for a second.

“Corner,” he says. “Where the suitcase is.” Castiel nods. He disappears around the corner with the two men, telling them something Dean can’t fully understand from where he sits.

Dean drops his head back against the sofa, staring up at the flat ceiling. He crosses his legs on the sofa, folding his hands in his lap. His heart beats a little faster than normal, and his breathing is slightly shaky. It’s not something that’s just started, he’s been feeling like this since he met Castiel. He’s a little excited for this. But most of all... he’s scared. He’s so scared. 

Dean closes his eyes, swallowing with difficulty. He’s never been this scared before. Not for anything. Maybe the fear is close to that one time an alpha had managed to beat him with a cane before anyone could stop him, but it’s worse. A lot worse. He sits forward, opening his eyes. He needs to suck it up. He’s not here to be scared. Or coddled. He’s here to be a toy. That’s all. That is _all_.

... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter but i also don't want to change it. i tried to skip around the talking because i don't want to give away too much. i want it to be a surprise. not sure i did it too well but i don't think it's that bad. :) i just really hope that you still like the story. please comment if you do!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of you have been nothing but supportive and i'm so thankful. <3 sorry for any mistakes. please enjoy! :)

It's three days later that Dean realizes the reason Castiel isn’t trying to fuck him. He’s gunshy; that is, he’s scared. Or maybe scared is too strong of a word. He’s perhaps more hesitant, like he thinks Dean’s going to break into pieces the moment he tries anything sexual. It’s laughable. To Dean, at least. Dean quite literally grew up surrounded by sex, he knows just about everything there is to know about it. So, ever the smart one, he decides that if Castiel isn’t going to make the first move, he might as well.

Dean is sitting at the end of their shared bed, ankles crossed and feet hovering a few inches off the floor. He’s tall but the bed seems to be higher than him. He just finished prepping himself, and he’s otherwise naked save for his new dark brown collar - pleasant and stylish and smooth, he likes it a lot but he'll only ever admit that to himself - and a pair of pretty light blue lace panties. Dean debates on taking the synthetic slick he’d found in Castiel’s nightstand drawer with him. Dean doesn’t produce slick like normal omegas, so he has to use a bottle of lubrication to jump start the whole process. It's not his fault that he doesn't get as aroused as a normal omega does.

He sighs softly and decides not to take it, it'll just confirm another one of his flaws to Castiel. Dean stands up from the bed, stretching his arms above his head and then bends forward, reaching for his toes. He straightens himself and walks to the bedroom door, pulling it open and shuffling out. He walks down the stairs, listening for the TV in the family room and trying to verify that Castiel is indeed still in there.

Bracing himself, Dean walks to the family room and stops in the middle of the doorway. Castiel glances over at him then looks at the screen again, only to snap his eyes back to Dean with confusion and desire blazing across his features. “Dean?” he asks, sitting up straighter and muting the TV. “What is this?”

Dean swallows and falters, suddenly nervous. It takes him a second to remember that while he’s learned how to seduce and fuck a person, he’s never actually initiated anything. Dean’s toes curl into the floor, and his hands clench into fists briefly at his sides. He's not scared, he can do this.

Dean walks forward; he walks until he’s standing between Castiel’s spread knees. He offers Castiel a small playful smile and slowly slides into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shuffles forward, legs spreading wider, until he can rest his ass firmly on Castiel’s crotch. The position is a little awkward for Dean but he can manage.

“Dean-” Castiel swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. Dean licks his lips, lowering his head and staring at Castiel through his lashes. “What are you doing?”

Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn't really have one. He lifts his hands and places them on Castiel’s chest, digging his nails into his skin through his thin white dress shirt, dragging them down slowly until his fingers hook over the waistband of his slacks. His heart slowly begins to pound harder and faster in his chest, drowning out the white noise in the background and consuming his hearing. He's getting nervous. Dean swallows again, parting his lips as he tugs on Castiel's waistband, leaning forward and bumping his nose lightly against Castiel’s.

“Come on, alpha,” he murmurs softly, voice betraying him by wavering. “Claim me.”

Castiel’s breathing picks up, and his eyes widen slightly, pupils expanding as desire begins pulsing through his strong body. Dean wiggles his hips and grinds down on Castiel's crotch, feeling his thick cock through his pants. A startled groan spills from Castiel’s lips, and Dean watches as he bites his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing slowly.

The next thing Dean knows, he’s on his back with Castiel hovering over him. Castiel drops his head, lips pressing to Dean’s neck and collar, thick stubble pressing roughly against the sensitive skin of his throat. Dean tilts his head back, arching his back and moaning exaggeratedly loud. Alpha's like to hear you moan like the sweet little whore you are - Alastair taught him that. Dean hooks his legs around Castiel’s waist, pulling him down until their cocks rub against each other, creating a sweet friction that has Dean gasping softly.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers against his skin. He lifts himself up with trembling arms, looking down at Dean with a surprisingly gentle gaze, full of conflicting emotions, regret and want. “No.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean replies immediately, wrapping his arms around Castiel and grabbing handfuls of his shirt. He lifts his head, sucking a mark into Castiel’s neck, dragging his teeth across the alpha's flesh until he gets to his ear. He licks the shell, cooing softly, “Fuck me, alpha.” Castiel shivers, hesitates, then easily pulls away from him, removing Dean’s legs even as he tries to tighten them, and sitting back.

“No, Dean,” Castiel says, glancing down at Dean’s panties. Dean watches him swallow again, and lick his lips. Dean bites his inner cheek, his cheeks feeling warm. He feels embarrassment bubble up within him. Of course his attempt at seducing Castiel fails, he's ugly and pathetic and unworthy of anyone. Castiel presses a hand to Dean’s stomach, tapping his fingers lightly against his skin.

Castiel digs his nails into Dean’s skin. It’s not hard but he certainly feels it. Castiel drags them down his belly, ghosting over his covered cock. He grabs Dean’s left ankle, lifting his leg up and settling it over the back of the sofa. He pushes Dean’s other leg to the floor. Dean forces himself to push his embarrassment to the side. He instead tries to goad the other man.

“Why?” he asks. “You scared?” Castiel’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything. “Come on, man. I thought you would be alpha enough to fuck me good but I guess I was wrong.” Dean sits up and pulls away from the alpha, standing. He smirks down at Castiel, going for irritating and annoying. “I’ll just go find someone else to fuck me.” He turns on his heel and takes two steps towards the doorway. Castiel growls lowly and grabs his left wrist, yanking him backwards and making him fall onto the sofa with a bounce. He straddles Dean’s waist, pinning his arms down and staring down at him with a pointed gaze.

“You are mine, Dean,” he drawls the words out. It’s spoken quietly but Dean shivers at the intense, dark undertone to his voice. “No one else will touch you as long as you are mine. Do you understand?” Dean grins cheekily up at him, grinding his cock against Castiel’s ass.

“Nah, I don’t,” he taunts, grabbing Castiel's shirt roughly. “Maybe I’ll understand when you claim me, though.” Dean tries to lean up but Castiel presses him firmly into the sofa. One of his hands slide up and two fingers hook under his collar, tugging hard.

“Do not test me, Dean,” Castiel murmurs, leaning down. Even so, his eyes sparkle like he wants Dean to. His other hand’s nails rake down Dean’s chest, digging in firmly and no doubt leaving pink lines behind; he doesn't lower his gaze to confirm. Dean groans at the spikes of pain, exaggerating the noise once more, and lifts his head to kiss Castiel firmly on the mouth.

The alpha doesn’t respond to his kiss but Dean’s fine with that. He nips at Castiel's bottom lip and flicks his tongue against the seam of his soft lips. As Dean pulls back, Castiel leans forward. He bites Dean’s bottom lip. It’s hard and painful and makes Dean’s dick twitch. Castiel releases his lip from between his teeth and sucks on it, licking at his sore skin.

Castiel stands up and pulls Dean with him. “If you want me to fuck you, Dean,” he starts, a kind of satirical smile making its way onto his face. “You will have to be obedient. Do exactly as I say.”

“Like what? Do what?” Dean winces inwardly. That makes him sound desperate. He's not desperate but he is a little horny. It's not his fault. He's just used to being fucked everyday and it's been days since he's had another person play with him.

Castiel steps away, gesturing Dean to follow. He stands between the end of the sofa and the doorway. “A headstand,” Castiel says. “I want you to do a headstand.” Dean frowns, looking at the floor and trying to remember that last time, if at any time, he’d done a headstand. Dean knows what a headstand is but he’s never seen anyone actually get into the position. “You can use the wall for help, if you would like.” Dean’s not _that_ eager to fuck Castiel - he could always jerk off, but this is just some stupid test and he knows he can do it. 

“I’ll help you,” Castiel says. “Hands and knees.” Dean tenses at the order, glancing at Castiel before obeying. “Move up to the wall.” Dean moves closer, his fingers barely an inch from the baseboard. “Lace your fingers then put your head down.” Dean intertwines his fingers behind the top of his head and places his head between his forearms, shifting to get his arms into a more comfortable position. "Hips up."

Dean lifts himself up onto his feet. Castiel grabs his ankles and helps him lift his legs up, pressing them against the wall. Dean breathes slowly, shifting a little and finding a position that suits him. Castiel lets go of him and steps back, crouching down in front of his head. “Good boy,” he murmurs. Dean swallows and clenches his hands into fists for a second. “Stay like that.”

Dean watches Castiel step away and return to his spot on the sofa, and he hears the TV unmute. He closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing. It’s easier with the wall to help him but he’s still putting all of his weight on his arms and head and it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain. He should have realized this wouldn't be easy. It’s barely half a minute later and he’s trembling with the effort to stay up, his body protesting, perspiration slowly building on his mostly bare skin.

Dean’s not weak. He’s done a lot of exercise while at Haven to keep fit and strong for all of the alphas coming and going; but this is different. It’s so much more difficult. Dean curls his toes, wiggling his feet and shifting them. He breathes harder, stomach muscles twitching, blood pulsing towards his head.

He opens his eyes as he hears Castiel come stand in front of him. The alpha kneels down and sits back on his heels. “Too difficult for you, Dean?” Castiel says. He’s provoking him. Dean clenches his jaw with anger.

“No,” he grits out.

“Easy then, huh?”

“ _As pie_.”

Castiel chuckles. “Let’s make it a little more difficult then, hmm?” Castiel reaches out and slips his hand into Dean’s panties, grabbing his cock and tugging it out of the lace. He strokes him slowly, using the precum slowly sliding out of the tip of Dean’s cock as lubrication.

Dean holds back a whine, closing his eyes and twitching his hips. It threatens to make him fall over so he forces himself to stay still. It’s definitely harder now that he wants to thrust and fuck Castiel’s hand, _need_ and _want_ coursing through his tense body. Dean breathes shakily, toes curling and uncurling as he tries to keep still.

Castiel’s hand is soft and firm and tight around his small cock, movements quick and dirty. Dean groans at the bolts of pleasure racing through him, thighs trembling. He’s close, really close. Dean’s not normally this much of a quickshot but this position, his tense body, is adding to the intensity of Castiel’s hand.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, arching his back and bucking his hips as he comes messily down Castiel’s hand. He crumples forward with a quiet whine. Castiel catches him with his free hand, guiding him down into a child's pose.

“Shh, stay like that for a second." Dean pants as he settles down and the blood starts rushing away from his head. Castiel nudges him until he's sitting up. "Clean it up,” Castiel says, holding his hand out. Dean’s cheeks flush as he obediently licks his come from the alpha’s hand. It’s humiliating, especially with Castiel watching him so closely. “Good boy.” Castiel runs his now clean hand through Dean’s hair, tugging lightly on the strands at the back of his head.

Dean’s heart beats quickly, unevenly, in his chest. He’s kneeling next to Castiel, legs spread apart, hands between his knees, and waistband of his panties pressing his wet and softening cock to his stomach, shoulders hunched over a little with his head lowered. He feels pathetically submissive - and sore, and is unnerved by the fact he enjoys being like this at Castiel’s side. He is not like this. He does not let himself be like this. Dean is a brat, through and through, but...

Castiel pulls his hand away, nudging his fingers underneath Dean’s chin and making him lift his head. Castiel’s blue eyes are sparkling with how pleased he is. Dean’s heart skips a few beats, stomach flip-flopping. “Go clean up,” Castiel murmured. “I’ll start on dinner.” Castiel stands up and walks out of the room, leaving Dean to collect himself and drag his ass upstairs.

* * *

Dinner consists of cubed chicken, cubed baked potatoes and cut-up asparagus and some broccoli. It’s all bite-sized and small and _healthy_. Dean knows exactly where this is going, especially since there’s only one plate and set of cutlery but two glasses of water.

Castiel sits down at the end of the dining room table, gesturing Dean over. Dean shuffles over to stand next to him, and looks around for at least a cushion. Castiel pats his left thigh, lifting his hand and tugging Dean to sit on it. It’s weird sitting on his thigh, and Dean’s definitely taller than him.

“I don’t like this,” Dean says, but he doesn’t really protest or move away because he does like this. He enjoys being fed by hand, it’s sweet and comforting and makes him feel fuzzy. Missouri did it with him when they were able to be alone. Dean frowns; he misses her so much. She is, was, literally his everything. He wishes he had gotten her phone number or email or something.

“I’ll give you a choice,” Castiel replies. “Either eat like this or on the floor like a dog.” Dean clenches his jaw, turning a fiery gaze towards Castiel. Dean’s eaten from a bowl on the floor before, but that had been when he was in his puppy headspace and he’s most definitely not in that headspace at the moment. “Your choice, of course.”

“How about I just make myself a third choice?” Dean says, putting on his most fake, sweet smile. “I eat by myself, and you remember that there are boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” Castiel huffs. “Oh, no, sweet boy.” He shakes his head at Dean. “You are mine. I will dictate what you do as long as you are. You are entirely free to use your safeword. Before you think it, no, Dean, I am not taunting you by saying that. I am reminding you that you have a legitimate way to get out of this.” Dean turns his eyes away. “We are still learning limits and... boundaries, as you say. You don’t like something, tell me,” Castiel continues. “Now, choose from the provided choices.”

“I’ll eat in the kitchen,” Dean says after a few silent seconds. Castiel tightens his grip on Dean’s waist, pulling him closer as he leans his face towards him. Dean turns his head away, but Castiel grabs his jaw and makes him look at his blue eyes.

“You do that and I will punish you for being a disobedient little boy,” Castiel murmurs, bumping their noses together. “Is it really so difficult for you to let me feed you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean snaps. “I don’t want to eat from your stupid fucking hand.” Dean feels a small amount of anger bubble up within him. He’s only been fed by Missouri, he refused to even let Benny try. Castiel wants to punish him for not choosing between eating from his hand and eating like a dog? That’s pathetic. It’s certainly not as idiotic as some of his other punishment reasons but it is _dumb_.

Castiel lets go of his face and just stares at him for a moment. “Go on, then,” he finally says, leaning back and loosening his grip on Dean. “Go eat in the kitchen.”

“Oh, thank you, master,” Dean croons sarcastically as he stands. “How so very kind of you.” Castiel narrows his eyes, annoyance, or maybe it’s anger, clouding his expression. The alpha doesn’t say anything, however, as Dean stalks into the kitchen to get himself a plate of food to eat.

* * *

Dean's curled up tightly in the corner of his bed, wearing a pair of pajama pants and a loose shirt, Squishy held tightly in his arms. Castiel walks slowly, deliberately loudly, up the stairs. He pauses outside of Dean’s safe room door, knocking on the wood three times. “Dean?” he says. Dean closes his eyes, choosing to stay silent. “Come into the bedroom. You have five minutes.”

“And if I don’t come in five minutes?” Dean asks, unable to stop himself from speaking.

“I will not do anything,” Castiel replies immediately. Dean frowns, and opens his eyes, confused. Why the hell wouldn’t he do anything? “You are in your safe room, Dean. I will never forcibly remove you from there; unless, of course, you’re in need of emergency medical care.”

“Uh-huh. What about if I leave the room after those five minutes are up?”

“Fair game,” Castiel chuckles. Dean hears him open the master bedroom door and walk inside. He closes his eyes again and counts the passing seconds. Dean doesn’t want to be punished. He didn’t do anything that bad, but he can _sort of_ see why Castiel thinks he needs to be. Both options were terrible, however; but as Castiel said, he always has his safeword. Dean sulks. Dammit, he  _hates_  using his safeword.

The seconds slip away, ticking closer and closer to the end of the five minutes. He’s counted four minute already, and he’s a little less than halfway done counting for a fifth time. As the passed time becomes four minutes and forty-five seconds, Dean reluctantly stands up and walks to his door. He opens it and steps out, shuffling into the bedroom.

Castiel sits at the end of their bed, hands folded neatly in his lap. He looks over at Dean when he steps into the room, then glances at the clock on the wall. “Good choice,” Castiel says, gesturing Dean closer with his index finger. “Come here.”

Dean takes a deep breath, lifting his head up higher and stalking towards Castiel. He stands right in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest and defiantly staring down at him. Castiel smiles, easy and soft, it catches Dean off guard.

“I’m not particularly angry with you, Dean,” Castiel says slowly. “Yes, you didn’t obey me. You were disrespectful. You were rude. I know I may have offended you by telling you to eat like a dog, but I only did it to get your favor with the first choice.”

Castiel sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish to be closer to you, Dean. Maybe I’m going about it the wrong way but I’m trying. Handfeeding is something that brings people closer together, deepens a relationship. I’m not trying to force you to bend to my every will, I’m not trying to humiliate you by caring for you in more... traditional... ways. I just-” Castiel cuts himself off and inhales and exhales a few times, loud enough for Dean to hear.

Dean slowly drops his arms and looks down. He feels bad. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel murmurs. Dean’s throat tightens, and he tries to step back. Castiel reaches for him, grasping his wrists in his hands and tugging him closer. “I’m not going to punish you for something so trivial but I am going to say this: tell me if you’re that uncomfortable with something so we can work it out, because the next time you act like a sarcastic brat, I will punish you there and then.”

Castiel tries to pull him closer but Dean holds his ground. Dean knows Castiel is being light with him, letting him settle in. Castiel wants to get to know him, he can understand that - he supposes, but Dean dislikes that he’s being so tender, tiptoeing around him. He wants to burst out, fight him and swear him and hurt him, make Castiel do something regrettable, but he can’t seem to find the energy right now.

Castiel stands, grasping Dean’s shoulder with his right hand, thumb brushing back and forth over his shirt. “Come downstairs when you're ready, we can watch a movie before bed,” the alpha says, all soft and gentle and- It makes Dean’s eye twitch.

Dean stays still as Castiel lets go of him and walks out of the room, heading back downstairs. He stares down at the bed, jaw clenched and hands balls into fists. Dean is not a meek little omega, he doesn’t submit, he doesn’t obey, and yet here he is, practically bending at the knee for his new master like a pathetic piece of _shit_.

He scoffs to himself and walks out of the room and into his safe room, slamming the door shut hard enough that he hears something fall and break in the house. That settles him a little and makes him feel some satisfaction. Dean Winchester is not submissive. _He is not._ It’s time Castiel realized just how unruly he can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been sitting on this chapter for a couple weeks now and i don't know know how to feel about it. i definitely don't like how it opens, and my limited self doesn't know how to fix it without messing it up more, but i think the rest is mostly fine. anyways, comments are awesome and it'll mean a lot to me if you leave one! or a kudo, if you haven't already. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! :) it's kinda short and full of mistakes (sorry) but i hope you enjoy!

Dean doesn’t speak to Castiel when he comes to check on him after the door slam. He stays locked in his safe room for the rest of the night, waits for Castiel to leave in the morning. He knows what he does next is childish, completely unnecessary, and definitely stupid.

He does it anyways.

Dean makes a mess of the family room. He tosses the pillows to the floor and leaves the TV on, the drapes and sheers open. He takes dishes out of the cupboards in the kitchen, leaves the doors open. He pushes the chairs over in the dining room; and after a second of hesitation, breaks one of the back and front legs of the chair. It’s the same chair Castiel sat on when he tried to hand feed him last night. He kicks the pillows off the bed in the master bedroom, messes up the sheets. He leaves lights on in all of the rooms.

And that he locks himself back in his safe room with a satisfied grin. He snuggles under his blankets with his Squishy and sighs. He’s being ridiculous but he wants to anger Castiel, he wants to make him do something. He’s not here right now so Dean can’t exactly goad him, annoy him, but he most definitely will do that when Castiel comes home.

Hopefully he’ll be able to.

* * *

Dean had been meaning to be awake when Castiel got home, but he fell too deeply asleep and woke up about an hour after the alpha should have come home; about seven o’clock. Dean sneaks out of his safe room and slowly walks into the master bedroom, hoping Castiel isn’t in here or the bathroom because he _really_ has to pee.

It’s clear.

And the bed is also fixed up neatly.

Dean frowns but continues towards the bathroom. He pees quickly, washing his hands and then his face, brushing his teeth. His short hair is a mess but he’s feeling too lazy to do anything about that.

His stomach rumbles softly, reminding him that he hasn’t had anything to eat since last night. Dean bites his bottom lip, fighting between going downstairs and getting something to eat and curling back up in his bed with his plushie. He huffs and wipes his face and hands, turning the bathroom light off and stepping out.

Castiel still isn’t here.

Dean walks to the stairs, sitting on the top one. He listens for movement or the TV but doesn’t hear either. Maybe he’s in the basement in his office? Dean hopes he is. To be safe, he waits a few more minutes, bouncing his leg nervously as seconds slip past.

Absolutely nothing.

Judging the coast to be clear, Dean sneaks down the steps and goes into the kitchen from the dining room. The chairs in the dining room are upright, the one he broke is gone, and in the kitchen, the dishes are put away and the cupboards closed. He’s seriously confused, and a little angry, that Castiel didn’t come to his door in a rage.

There’s a small cottage pie on top of the stove, covered with foil to keep warm. Dean hops up onto the island and slumps his shoulders, staring at the pie with hunger but not wanting to make noise with the foil and bring Castiel in the room. He swallows a mouthful of saliva, licking his lips and swinging his legs a little.

“Good evening, Dean,” Castiel drawls casually from the doorway. Dean jumps off the island and spins around to look at him. Dean curses to himself. He forgot about the other doorway, stuck on monitoring the one from the dining room; it was in line of the stove, after all. He can’t help the nervous smile that makes its way onto his face, and he doesn’t even think about the tremble in his hands. “Hungry?”

Suddenly, now that he’s faced with Castiel, he’s terrified. Annoy him? On top of everything he already did? Hell no. He’s so stupid. He can’t believe he’s so thoughtless. Of course, his actions are going to get him his desired response, a punishment, but what if it’s not a spanking? What if he beats him?

“Y-yeah,” Dean says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and steps backwards. It’ll just be a dumb punishment, nothing new to him. He can take it. He’s not a wimp. “Just, ah, about to eat.” _Fuck sakes_ , Dean thinks, his stomach turning unpleasantly, eyes stinging and threatening to tear up. Why can’t he just be good?

Castiel’s eyes darken, and he smiles almost mockingly. “Of course,” he says, smooth and sweet. “Don’t let me stop you. Actually,” Castiel pushes himself away from the wall he’s leaning against and steps towards Dean. “Allow me to help you, Dean.”

Dean forces himself to stay where he is as Castiel advances on him, a smile that is too much teeth and not at all kind firmly plastered on his face. Castiel grabs a plate from one of the cupboards and cuts Dean a piece of the cottage pie, getting him a fork and setting both items on the island counter. “Please,” Castiel murmurs, “eat. Enjoy.”

Dean’s heart thuds in his chest, consuming him in their uneven, nervous beats. Castiel not immediately doing anything to punish him is more frightening than if he were doing something. He can handle a beating, a spanking, he can probably handle a verbal lashing too, but he can’t handle _nothing_.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Dean?” Castiel says when Dean doesn’t move. Castiel steps back one step. “Please, enjoy yourself. I’ll be in the other room.” Castiel tilts his head a little, and flashes Dean a sickly sweet smile before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

Dean shivers. He sits on one of the island chairs and slowly eats his food. It goes down hard and unpleasant, sitting heavily in his belly. He manages to eat the whole thing but he feels sick after. Dean cleans his plate and fork, setting it to dry in the little rack next to the sink. He puts the rest of the pie away and washes the glass dish it was baked in, setting that to dry as well.

He leans against the counter as he drinks a glass of water and debates on sneaking back upstairs. He can hide in his safe room, but that will just delay an inevitable punishment. It’s stupid to delay a punishment, that usually will just make it worse. He can go into the living room with a fighting air. He can be strong and defiant and resisting. Or he can go in with a defeated posture. He can be meek and compliant and as _good_ as he can be in this type of situation.

Dean snorts, setting his glass in the sink. What the hell is he thinking? He’s not submissive. Dean straightens his shoulders and boldly walks out of the kitchen, stalking into the family room and standing in front of Castiel, arms crossed.

Castiel looks calm, legs crossed at the knee and hands folded neatly in his lap. He looks up at Dean almost lazily, a bland smile turning his lips upward. The TV is off, leaving the room nearly silent; the lack of noise is nerve-racking. Dean taps his foot against the floor, raising an eyebrow at Castiel and waiting. What’s he going to do? Take his belt off and hit him? Force him to bend over and spank him until he cries and begs him to stop? He sincerely doubts Castiel is actually going to go easy on him with a spanking. A verbal lashing and a light spanking? Ha-fucking-ha. Absolutely laughable, pathetic.

“You’re a very impolite boy, aren’t you, Dean?” Castiel drawls, tilting his head ever so slightly. Dean’s a little taken aback. He frowns at Castiel, narrowing his eyes.

“Who fucking cares?” Dean scoffs. He laughs, but it sounds cheap and empty to even his own ears. “You don’t like how I act? Is that, master? Kick me out then.”

Castiel opens his mouth, then immediately closes it. He sighs and shakes his head. “Dean, Dean, Dean,” he murmurs. “I’m very disappointed with you. I almost have no words. I know you’re rebellious, I know you’re bratty. I understand you do it to, ah, defend yourself, I suppose. But, Dean,” Castiel pauses, licking his lips. “Why- Why do you have to be so... _mean_?”

“M-mean?” Dean repeats, stuttering over the word. _He’s_ the mean one?

“Yes.” Castiel blinks a few times. “I have done nothing to incite any of your actions. I mean, if I have, please do tell me. I would very much like to know if I’ve done something wrong to you. Have I done something wrong, Dean?”

“You- No...” Dean swallows thickly. He hasn’t. He hasn’t done anything wrong. “I never-”

“Shh, shh,” Castiel coos, shaking his head and lifting his hand, pressing his index finger to his lips. “You are not allowed to speak unless I’m asking you a direct question. If I do, you will answer me with one sentence. Choose your words wisely. Do you understand, Dean?”

Dean scoffs, clenching his jaw and glaring at Castiel. He curls his toes into the hardwood floor, digging his nails into his arms. Castiel raises his left eyebrow, looking entirely too calm, and perhaps a little amused, for their current situation. Their staring match doesn’t go on for long, because after barely three minutes, Dean drops his arms to his sides. “Yes, _master_.” He feels that familiar tiny coil of triumph because he managed to add in that last part.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, clearly letting Dean’s sarcasm go. “That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” Castiel doesn’t continue, and it takes a second for Dean to realize he’s waiting for a response.

“No, _master_.”

“Continue using that word and this will be a lot worse than it already is, Dean,” Castiel says. “I have a question for you. Take all the time you want to answer me, Dean, but I want the absolute truth from you. No half-truths, no half-assed replies, and definitely no lies. The complete truth. Do you understand?”

“Sure,” Dean replies, shooting Castiel a fake smile.

“When I left our bedroom last night, we were fine. Or it seemed like we were fine.” Castiel licks his lips, glancing around the room for a second, as if thinking. “What happened between the time I left the room and the time you slammed your door to bring about such rage in you and cause you to act out the way you did today?”

Dean tilts his head back, looking up at the far left corner of the ceiling. His instinct is to make up a quick lie, to tell Castiel the truth without actually telling him anything. Dean bites his inner cheek, tilting his head further back to stare at the section of ceiling right above himself. The backs of his eye sting and his throat feels tight. Why does he feel so damn sensitive tonight?

What did happen, anyways? It's not just one thing, it's not just last night. It’s everything. This is so overwhelming and new and weird and it’s so difficult for Dean to wrap his head around. It’s so difficult for him to understand and accept that someone wants to be nice to him. How can he begin to believe Castiel is really genuine when all he’s been subjugated to his whole teen years is _pain_. Different forms and levels of pain.

His knees feel weak and his hands tremble slightly. He feels like he’s going to cry and Castiel hasn’t even done anything. Dean drops to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. Castiel doesn’t say anything at the change, doesn’t make a damn noise. Dean stares at the floor, gripping the side of his pants tightly.

Castiel is right. Deans been nothing but _mean_ since he’s met the alpha. Castiel has given him freedom and safety and warmth he’s never experienced before and he’s been so terrible the whole time. He wants to say it’s not but _it is_ his fault. Just because he’s scared of this, of Castiel a little even, doesn’t mean he has the right to hurt the man.

“I-”

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel encourages gently.

Dean’s eyes well up with tears but he manages to quickly blink them back. He’s only been given one sentence to articulate how he’s feeling and he doesn’t know how to even begin to form it. “I need more than one sentence,” he finally manages to say. He hates how shaky, how scared the words come out; he hates that he even has to ask. Castiel doesn’t say anything for a moment. Dean hopes he didn’t fuck up his one chance. He hopes Castiel lets him explain himself. Dean’s stomach turns unpleasantly. He doesn’t even want to explain himself, he just wants to be punished. The problem is, though, is that this _is_ part of the punishment; a large part, according to Castiel.

“Two sentences,” Castiel says quietly.

Dean wiggles his toes, gaining a little bit of comfort. He wishes he had Squishy right now, Squishy would be able to help him get through this. “I’m scared,” he whispers, eyes burning. Fuck, there goes one sentence. “No one’s ever treated me like this before and I don’t know what to do in return. I-” He cuts himself off because that was two sentences.

“You may continue, Dean.”

“I feel like you’re just being-” he pauses to swallow and lick his dry lips, “-being fake.” He huffs out a small laugh. “Why would you be nice to me? That’s all I can think. There’s no reason for you to be.” A tear slides down his right cheeks. “I haven’t done anything to deserve your kindness. I haven’t-”

He’s already said too much. He should shut up. Dean lifts his hands and rubs his palms against his eyes, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Come here, Dean,” Castiel says. He doesn’t want to but he also doesn’t not want to. Dean drops his hands and sits forward, crawling towards Castiel and kneeling between his spread legs. Castiel gestures him to stand up, so he shakily does, turning his face away so Castiel won’t see his wet eyes. The alpha reaches out and tugs Dean down.

It’s almost like he’s being pulled in for a hug, but then Castiel bends him over his left thigh. Dean grips the cushion below him, burying his face in a pillow. He’s so ashamed of himself. Not just for speaking about his feelings, but for being so mean and bratty, for destroying Castiel’s chair.

Castiel’s left hand is warm and big, rubbing gently over his lower back. Castiel’s other hand carefully tugs down his lounge pants and panties, exposing his ass to the air and Castiel's sharp eyes. Dean curls his toes, digging his fingernails further into the sofa cushion below.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Dean,” Castiel murmurs, rubbing his right hand over his ass cheeks. “I am going to spank you fifteen times. Five for not being honest with me in the beginning, even if it was difficult for you, and ten for your behavior today. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he mutters into the pillow, chest hurting as he waits for the Castiel to start.

The first slap makes him jump, but he manages to stay still after that. They’re not exactly hard but he certainly feels each slap. Firm, unrelenting smacks that land almost evenly between his ass cheeks. It’s painfully familiar to the many other times he’s been spanked but it’s so incredibly different at the same time. Each slap makes a tear fall from his eyes, and by the time the last one falls, he’s hiccuping every few breaths, trying to hold back any shameful sobs.

He feels so damn pathetic, and yet he feels so free. It’s an odd combination of feelings and he doesn’t like it. His stomach turns but he can’t say if it’s unpleasant or not, he doesn’t understand it. Being spanked by Castiel, punished by him, is weirder than anything that's ever happened to him before. He doesn't like it, but he prefers it over the other punishments he's received in his life.

Castiel helps him get up, pulling him into his arms even as Dean resists without any real force. Castiel arranges his legs so Dean’s straddling him and holds him tightly, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. Dean’s nose is tucked into Castiel’s collar, and he’s overwhelmed with soothing, intense scents. Dean clutches at Castiel’s shirt, slumping against him and squeezing his eyes shut.

He can be embarrassed and ashamed of this later, but right now... right now Dean thinks he’ll just take whatever comfort he can from Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't exactly all that i wanted it to be but it is at the same time. it's weird. i didn't want to draw out the spanking in here and i didn't want to make it sexual either. dean's also kind of different in this chapter but i think there was some progress here and i'm fairly satisfied with it. so yeah. comments are great and it'll mean a lot to me if you leave one! or a kudo, if you haven't already. thanks for reading! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for all of the amazing comments! <3 please enjoy!

Dean moans, squirming beneath Castiel’s firm body. He arches his back and rocks his hips, clenching around the cock buried deep inside of his ass. Castiel feels thick inside of him, reaching sensitive places that send shivers racing through Dean’s body.

Castiel chuckles darkly in his ear, nibbling on the shell and rolling his hips. Dean parts his lips and rubs his cock against the sheets below, loving the way the smooth sheets feel. “Come on, alpha,” he whispers, panting into the pillow below. “Fuck me good.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, but he does sit up. Dean shivers at the cold air that suddenly rushes over his back, but doesn’t complain because Castiel starts sliding in and out. Slow, and only a little bit at a time, but he’s moving and Dean’s so fucking grateful.

Dean whines softly as Castiel grabs his hips with strong hands and forces him up onto his knees, ass all the way in the air. He groans as Castiel pulls out a few inches and slams straight back in, rubbing over his prostate and hitting a delicate spot inside of his ass. Dean jerks his hips, choking out a gasp as at the same time Cas moans, and squeezes his eyes shut as Cas does it again.

Cas. _Cas_. He likes that. It’s smoother, easier; more intimate. It makes butterflies flutter in his belly, and his heart skip a small beat. Dean buries his face in his pillow and reaches his right hand down between his thighs. He wraps his hand around his cock, tugging lightly on his dick and moaning.

“Dean.”

“Mm... harder!” he says loudly. Cas complies, pulling out of him almost all the way and slamming back in with enough force to knock the headboard against the wall. Dean’s thighs tremble, and he uses his left hand to claw pathetically against the sheets.

“ _Dean_.” Knocking headboard.

“Nhh.” Dean whimpers, biting his bottom lip and stroking himself faster.

Knockin- “ _Dean_!”

* * *

“ _Dean_!” 

“What?” he yells. Dean sits up abruptly, his heart going a mile a minute and his cock aching and his ass a slick mess. Dean glances down quickly, surprised to see that he’s in his bed, covered partially with his comforter. Dean feels his throat close up as he realizes what just happened.

“Dean?” Cas says hesitantly from the other side of the door. Dean closes his eyes and drops back onto the bed, his cheeks warming up with shame and embarrassment. “Are you alright? I-... You were making, ah, a lot of noise.” Cas sounds so awkward.

Dean reaches under the sheets and wraps his hand around his cock, stifling a moan of relief as he squeezes himself. “Dean? Can I come in?” Cas asks.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Come in.”

Cas slowly punches in the code, then turns the handle once it beeps with confirmation. He steps into the room, pushing the door shut and leaning against it. Dean’s nightstand lamp is on, so it’s not difficult to see the room. Cas immediately turns his gaze to Dean, looking down at the bulge in the blankets where Dean’s hand is wrapped around his cock.

He strokes himself slowly, arching his back and licking his lips. “Cas,” he whispers, thighs twitching. “P-,” Dean swallows, “please.” Cas steps forward, walking over to Dean, stopping beside the bed. His eyes are wide, pupils blown wide, and his lips are parted.

Dean drops his eyes to Cas’ slacks, licking his lips at the prominent bulge evident in the dark grey material. He strokes himself faster, reaching his free hand out to touch Cas through his pants. Cas grabs his wrist, pushing his hand away with a shake of his head.

“Dean,” he says thickly, shifting from foot to foot. He clears his throat and straightens his back, gazing down at Dean with a firm expression that makes precum leak from Dean’s dick. “Stop touching yourself.” Dean whimpers softly but obediently lets go of his cock, squirming as it pulses with need. “Good boy.” He trembles on the bed, eyes wide as he looks up at Cas.

“Take your pillow,” Cas instructs. Dean shakily turns over onto his hands and knees, taking the pillow under the one he sleeps on and holding it up to Cas. “Fold it in half.” Dean does as he’s told, folding the pillow in half. “I want you to fuck it until you come. Can you do that for me, Dean?” He nods. “Good.”

Dean rests his body over the pillow, sliding his dick between the fold in the pillow and moaning at the smooth fabric caressing him. “Go on,” Cas says. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and slowly moves his hips, pulling back so his cock slides out almost all the way then pushing forward. It’s a little awkward, and kind of difficult, and definitely new, but Dean manages to get a good and fast rhythm in no time at all.

He pants heavily into the bed as he fucks the pillow, fisting the sheets in his hands and chasing after his sweet release. It’s been barely any time at all and his thighs already burn and and his ass hurts and he’s sweating profusely. Dean whines, a coil tightening in his belly; he tightens his stomach muscles and gasps.

* * *

“Ah!” Dean’s eyes snap open as he comes and he desperately humps the sheets below, trembling as his orgasm washes over him. It’s overwhelming and so incredibly satisfying. Dean moans, slumping into the sheets and trying to catch his breath.

A dream of a dream.

Dean reaches a shaky hand out, pinching the skin of his opposite forearm. Yep, he’s awake now. He swallows thickly and turns over onto his back, wincing at the mess he’s made. The bed is practically soaked in slick and sweat, come. And his stomach aches, a sharp gnawing pain in his lower belly.

He squints at the digital clock on his nightstand and frowns at the time. He doesn’t know why he keeps napping so much and sleeping so late into the day, and he really hates it. Dean forces himself to crawl out of his bed, feeling a little dizzy from the intense orgasm. He strips the bed, thankful that Cas bought him a few mattress protectors. He stuffs the laundry in the small hamper in the corner.

Dean checks the hall for Cas but doesn’t see him. He sneaks into the master bedroom and into the bathroom, stepping into the shower and turning it on. He takes his time, scrubbing his body clean of any bodily fluids and enjoying the heat and pressure from the water. Once he’s feeling better, skin pinkish from scrubbing and steam, he turns the water off and steps out of the shower.

The bathroom is cold enough to make him shiver. He quickly dries off with a big fluffy white terrycloth towel, wrapping it around his lithe body and walking into the closet. He steals a pair of Cas’ boxers, pulling the dark red briefs on. They’re comfy, if a little oddly freeing.

He pulls on a pair of soft light grey pajama pants and a dark blue t-shirt. Dean dries his hair off, walking back into the bathroom. He drops the towel in the hamper and combs his hair. Then, after making sure the bathroom is clean, he heads back to his safe room.

Dean puts a new mattress protector on his bed, changing the pillow cases and putting new sheets on the bed; even his damn comforter got wet, so he’s forced to get a different one from the closet. Dean rubs at his stomach, trying to ease the pain. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much, and he hopes it goes away soon.

When he’s done fixing his bed up, he shuffles out of his safe room, heading downstairs. It’s quiet but Dean can hear the sound of the TV playing softly in the family room. Dean walks into the family room, frowning over at where Cas sits on the floor before the coffee table, papers strewn across the surface and a pen in his hand. He’s scribbling something out on one of the papers, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together. He looks tired, and annoyed.

Dean hesitates, wanting to step further into the room but also not wanting to disturb Cas if he’s busy with work. It’s at that moment that Cas notices him, glancing up and over at him from beneath his lashes. He lifts his head and smiles at Dean, running a hand through his hair as he does.

“Hello, Dean,” he says, voice rougher than usual. He sets his pen down and leans back, his right hand lifting to cover a yawn. “How are you feeling today?” he asks, glancing at his watch.

“Fine,” Dean replies, rocking on his feet. He bites his inner right cheek, placing his hands over his lower belly. He clears his throat, an uneasy feeling building in his stomach as Cas continues to stare at him with a penetrating stare. “Y- Ah, how about you?”

“I’m well,” Cas says after a second. “Just finishing up some work.” Dean nods, licking his lips and playing with his fingers. “Come sit.” Dean glances at the empty spot beside Cas, then at the sofa. He hesitates for a few seconds then pads deeper into the room, stepping up beside Cas. He grabs the blanket from the back of the sofa and slides to the floor, wrapping it around himself.

“What kind of work are you doing?” Dean asks, shuffling a little uncomfortably. He glances down, and sees that Cas is sitting on a pillow. He should have grabbed one before he plopped down too. Cas glances at the table, and shrugs.

“Just some documents,” he replies. Dean frowns. He wants to ask what kind of documents, what kind of work Cas even does, but he doesn’t want to annoy the alpha. He settles for biting his lip and watching as Cas picks up his pen and resumes whatever it is he’s doing. Dean doesn’t really care what he does, anyways.

Dean quickly realizes just watching Cas work is kind of really boring. He doesn’t understand what the papers pertain to, and he doesn’t want to bother Cas with unnecessary questions. Dean sighs, as quietly as he can, and shifts. He glances down under the table at Cas’ legs. They’re stretched out, crossed at the ankle in a comfortable position.

After a few minutes of debating, Dean slides further away from Cas. The alpha glances at him with a curious stare, leaning back and frowning ever so slightly. Dean lies down on his back, resting the back of his head on Cas’ warm thigh, looking up at the man with an uncertain smile.

Cas’ lips slowly turn upwards, and his left hand comes to rest on Dean’s head, fingers playing with his short damp hair. Dean adjusts his blanket, and turns on his side, resting the back of his head against Cas’ white dress shirt. Dean closes his eyes, waiting for Cas to say something or maybe even push him away. Cas just resumes what he’s writing and continues playing with his hair. Dean curls his arms around his stomach, holding back a small whine as the pain increases for a moment. He feels tired even though he just woke up, but he’s not sure if he can sleep like this, not sure if he should trust Cas. He’ll try anyways.

And... maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe.

* * *

Dean squirms, yawning softly and turning to lie on his back. His pillow shifts and he tenses, opening his eyes and looking up. Right. Cas stares right back at him, a smile playing the edges of his lips. He fell asleep on Cas’ thigh. “Hi,” he murmurs down at Dean, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s forehead. “Have a nice nap?”

Dean swallows thickly. “Yeah,” he croaks, clearing his throat, cheeks flushing under the intense stare directed down at him. Cas hums and smiles, looking so pleased; his expression makes something flip happily in Dean’s tummy.

“That’s good,” Cas says. His right hand tenderly strokes Dean’s left cheek, cupping his jaw. Dean closes his eyes, slowly becoming aware of the pain in his belly. He squirms onto his side, tucking his face into Cas’ white dress shirt and whimpering softly with pain. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Cas asks gently, carding his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Hurts,” he admits quietly, placing a hand over his stomach to indicate where. Cas makes a noise, and reaches his hand out, placing it beside Dean’s. His hand is warm and feels good even through the blanket and his shirt.

“Come here, sweet boy,” Cas murmurs, patting his lap. Dean groans, reluctant to move, but gets up anyways. He feels a little weird about crawling into Cas’ lap but he sucks it up because Cas starts rubbing his stomach the moment he settles down and it feels _good_. He sighs quietly, tucking his head into Cas’ neck. God, he smells perfect.

Cas wraps the blanket around Dean, tucking it behind his back and over his legs. He covers his own arms too, and pushes Dean’s shirt up to touch his abdomen directly. It feels even better, the skin contact and the heat. “Do you know why it hurts?” Cas asks softly. Dean shakes his head, pushing his face deeper into Cas’ neck.

Cas leans his head down, brushing his nose against Dean’s throat and sniffing a few times. He stops rubbing him for a moment, then continues. Cas lifts his head and clears his throat. “Dean,” he says slowly. “What’s your cycle like?”

“Huh?” Dean frowns to himself. His cycle? What does that have- Oh. Fuck! Dean sits up quickly, embarrassed and panicking at the same time. How could he forget? Omegas have four 'heats’ a year, one every three months. Heat isn’t exactly an accurate term for it because every other pleasurable heat, is just a week of hellish pain and a light amount of bleeding and heavy slick production. There’s no pleasure, none at all.

Dean likes to call them periods, because that’s what a female omega has every other month and it’s pretty accurate for what happens to a male omega every six months.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas says, a little loud. Dean tenses, blinking a few times and turning his eyes to look at Cas. “Are you with me now?” He’s running his fingers through Dean’s hair, a worried expression on his face. Dean frowns, his face warming up with shame.

“Sorry,” he says quietly.

“Why are you sorry?” Cas asks, confused.

“Because...”

“Because...?" He doesn't answer. "Because, what, Dean? You didn’t do anything wrong here, sweet boy,” Cas says, tugging Dean closer to him again. Dean squirms, clenching his jaw and chewing his inner cheek again. Cas stays quiet for a few moments then says, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Dean hesitates, then nods. He needs those dumb butt pads, maybe one of those nice heating pads that Haven has - no, that’s too much, just a hot water bottle will suffice. “How about you write what you need down and I’ll go get it for you, okay?” Dean shrugs as Cas takes a blank paper from the table and his pen, handing it to Dean. “Can you get up for a moment?”

Dean shifts off of Cas’ lap, sitting on the floor beside him. “I just need to put these papers away and freshen up. You make the list and I’ll go buy you what you need.” Dean watches as Cas stands up and collects his papers, striding out of the room and disappearing around the corner. Dean sighs and reluctantly writes down the things he’ll need for the week, at least - maybe a little longer. It's not much, and he feels a touch guilty for wasting paper, but he does it anyways because it'll help Cas find what he's looking for easier.

* * *

Cas makes him lie down on the sofa, tucks the blanket around him and promises to be back in under an hour. Dean snuggles around his fox, which Cas so kindly got for him, and watches a random episode of a somewhat decent show. He’s still so tired, so he doesn’t pay much attention to the show.

He just rests there, squirming around every few minutes because it fucking hurts and he’s bored. He perks up when he finally hears the garage door opening after what feels like forever and Cas’ car turning off. It’s quiet for a moment then the side door opens and Cas steps into the house.

“Dean?” he calls.

“Here,” he replies, sitting up as Cas comes into the room.

“Hey,” he says, setting two plastic bags on the coffee table. “This is all for you. I’m going to go change into something more comfortable. Just give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” Cas gives him a small smile and steps out of the room. Dean huffs and swings his legs over the side of the couch. He reaches for the bags and pulls them closer, looking into them.

One is just full of a bunch of butt pads. The other has a hot water bag, some candy and painkillers and a four pack of some kind of vitamin water that is the best thing for a male omega, according to the writing on the top. Dean sighs; he’s grateful, and he’ll definitely thank Cas when he comes back, but he hates having a heat-period-thing. Why couldn't he have just been an alpha? Their lives are so much easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sure if i explained the heat thing properly so i'm sorry about that in advance! also sorry for any mistakes. it'll be great if you could leave a comment. :) thanks for reading! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! thanks for all the comments last chapter. <3 sorry for all the mistakes and stuff. enjoy!

Dean slowly blinks his eyes open, snuggling down deeper under his blankets and yawning quietly. It’s cozy under here, and soft. He hums happily, eyes slowly dropping shut again. A knock comes from the door, and he frowns, opening his eyes fully and lifting his head. “Yeah?” he calls out, voice cracking with sleep.

“Dean?” Cas says from the other side, hesitant.

“Yeah?” Dean wraps his arms around his stomach, feeling a few pricks of pain. What does he want?

“May I come in?”

Dean groans softly, dropping his head back down onto his pillow. He chews nervously on his inner cheek, wiggling his foot and rocking his body a little. He doesn’t really want to see Cas right now, he’s still embarrassed about his heat; Cas has been nice about it all but Dean knows he’s probably uncomfortable - though he apparently hides it well, especially with the way Dean has smelled.

He sighs to himself, slipping further under the blankets so only the tips of his hair are visible. At least he won’t have to see Cas. “Come in,” he says finally. The door handle wiggles as Cas tries to open the door but it doesn’t turn. Cas doesn’t do anything for a few seconds then starts punching in the short code for his room, turning the handle once it beeps and coming inside.

He closes the door fully and walks over to Dean, setting something down on his nightstand. It sounds like a plate. Cas slowly sits on the edge of his bed, knee bent sideways. “How are you feeling, Dean?” he asks quietly, gently.

“Fine,” he mutters in reply. “Just freakin’ peachy.” He winces to himself. That sounds like a lie, and he knows that Cas knows it. Dean feels like shit, in all honesty. His heat is almost over, thankfully, but the end of it isn’t coming fast enough.

“I see,” Cas says. Cas’ quiet for a few minutes, picking at a loose thread on Dean’s comforter. “Dean-” he begins nervously, then immediately cuts himself off. He clears his throat, “Dean, are you mad at me?”

Dean freezes.

Mad... at Cas? Why would he be mad at Cas? He has no reason to be. Sure, he’s sort of mad at himself for bothering Cas with his stupid heat things, and a little mad about how easily he lets Cas snuggle beside him and rub his belly, but he’s not mad at Cas. How in the hell did he come to that conclusion?

“I- You’ve been staying locked up here, Dean,” Cas continues. “I know you're uncomfortable, and I'm sorry I can't help you more. It's- I’ve begun to feel like it’s because you’re angry with me. Have I done anything to anger you?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I...”

“Then why won’t you look at me, Dean?” Cas sounds... sad?

He bites his inner cheek, balling his fingers into a fist and glaring at his sheets. Dean knows that his heat isn’t something to be embarrassed about, but... but _he is_! He’s embarrassed by it. He hates it so much. Dean grits his teeth together, then sighs. “It’s not about you,” he finally says after several very awkwardly empty minutes.

“You are mad, then?”

“No!” He huffs and settles, foot twitching. “Not really.” He's getting somewhat annoyed with Cas, because he really doesn’t want to talk about this. He can be irritated all he wants without having to explain the reason to Cas. It's not like Cas truly cares, right?

“What are you mad about, Dean?” Cas asks. “Can you-”

“No!” he snaps suddenly, sitting up and glaring at a surprised Cas. Dean holds back a wince as a cramp makes itself known. “I don’t have to tell you why I’m mad. I can be mad if I want to be.” His voice is raised. He feels guilty about it immediately.

“Dean,” Cas says in an eerily soft tone that makes Dean's heart beat faster, “do you need to stand in the corner?” Dean flinches and looks away, shifting carefully until he can rest back against his headboard, folding his hands in his lap. He shakes his head, frowning down at his legs. Cas won’t make him stand in the corner in his safe room, but their bedroom is right next to them. It’s not that far of a walk. “Does this have to do with your heat?” Cas asks.

“Maybe,” he mutters, being difficult on purpose.

“Dean-” Cas sighs, sounding a little annoyed to Dean's ears. He reaches over to Dean, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and tugging Dean’s arm closer. Cas sniffs his wrist a few times, pressing a kiss to Dean’s palm. Dean frowns, wondering why Cas seems so pleased with his scent. He smells weird, doesn’t he? “Why are you so embarrassed, sweet boy?”

Dean glares at his legs, all but yanking his arm away from Cas. Because Haven never let them near an alpha when they were in heat. It never mattered to them what kind it was, if they were in heat, then they were a nuisance . Suppressants are too damaging to an omega’s body, they would say, and then lock them in a room in the basement with all the things they could need for either heat.

“Dean.”

Haven didn’t want them getting pregnant, or injured while in heat. Didn’t want their product getting ruined; didn’t want an alpha to get sick of or annoyed with them or worse, forced into a rut by the scent of a needy omega. A lot of people at Haven had treated heats like they are the worst thing in existence; like being around an alpha - or anyone - while in heat was the worst thing someone could do to the alpha. He’s embarrassed because he was told and shown that he should be.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” Cas says. Dean looks over at him, the pet name making his stomach flutter and flip pleasantly. “I don’t care that you’re in heat. It’s a natural thing, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Dean squirms and looks away, feeling something painful twitch in his belly; he slips his arms under the comforter, wrapping them around his abdomen. Cas should care; Dean’s struggling to understand why he doesn’t. “May I sit beside you?”

Dean bites his inner cheek, nodding. Cas’ scent helps soothe him, it’s weird but he sucks it up because this has honestly been the best period-heat since, well, ever. Cas shifts, pushing the comforter out of the way and sitting up on the bed, resting back against the headboard. He shuffles closer to Dean, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and pulling Dean into his body.

Dean pulls away and scoots closer to his pillows, pulling Cas towards him. He fixes the blanket over Cas’ legs and then crawls into his lap, curling up with his head tucked into Cas’ neck. It’s the comfiest position to scent Cas in. Okay, well, that might not be true but he likes the safety of the position. Cas’ arms wrap tight around him, and his scent curls in the air on all sides of Dean like some kind of invisible blanket.

Cas shifts a little bit, adjusting the blankets around Dean’s body. Then he sets a plate in Dean’s lap. Dean frowns, lifting his head and looking down at it. Strawberries, with a chocolate coating. He licks his lips, staring at them. Cas picks one up, and holds it out to Dean. He hesitates, mouth beginning to water at just the sight of the chocolate coated strawberry in front of his face. He parts his lips, opening his mouth wide enough to accept a bite.

Cas freezes, and from the corner of Dean’s eye, he sees his alpha’s eyes widen. A scent of slight disbelief and careful hope drifts to Dean’s nose. Maybe Dean shouldn’t be letting Cas feed him the strawberry; perhaps it’s too soon. Maybe Cas doesn't want to try feeding him anymore. Cas moves his hand forward carefully, though, letting Dean wrap his lips around the strawberry and take a bite. The sweet flavor of the juicy strawberry bursts across his taste buds, followed closely by the smooth, richness of the milk chocolate.

Dean blinks over to Cas, staring at the small smile on his face. Cas’ hand slides into his hair, tilting Dean’s head back to reveal more of his throat. Dean opens his mouth, waiting. Cas offers him another bite, and this time, some strawberry juice drips from his lips. Cas slowly leans forward and carefully licks the juice up, pressing a kiss to Dean’s bottom lip.

“It’s good,” Dean says, after chewing and swallowing the second bite. His cheeks feel warm under the heavy weight of Cas’ dark blue eyes. Cas doesn’t say anything, just feeds him the last bite of the strawberry. He offers Dean another strawberry but he shakes his head, tucking his face back into Cas’ neck. Cas moves the plate from Dean’s lap, setting it on the nightstand again. Cas whispers a soft, "Thank you," and places a kiss on Dean's forehead. Dean doesn't know why Cas is thanking him, but doesn't think too deeply about it.

This whole thing is a little surreal; Dean can hardly believe he’s letting himself be practically coddled by an alpha he still hardly knows. He’s still embarrassed, he’s still worried Cas isn’t a good man but this moment is so... so _warm_ that Dean manages to push those thoughts away and let himself relax. Cas strokes Dean’s hair with a gentle hand, his other rubbing Dean’s tummy. “I have a gift for you, sweet boy,” he murmurs, so soft Dean almost misses it. “Would you like to see it?”

“Later,” he replies. Dean noses at Cas’ throat. Gifts are nice and all, but this, this is much nicer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is fairly short, and not exactly what i tried to make it. next chapter has some playtime, probably not what you wanted but (spoilers?) it explores the masochism tag. i know you guys have been wanting an age play chapter to come already but i think that needs more trust and i'm doing my best to increase the level of trust between dean and cas. i'll try to update as soon as i can, maybe/hopefully next week, but i'm not completely sure if it'll be that early. but thank you for reading! i love all of your comments so much. it would mean a lot if you could leave more! or a kudo if you haven't done that yet. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thanks so much for the comments and kudos and stuff. it means a lot. <3 really nervous about this chapter but i hope you like it!

It’s a few days later, and Dean’s heat is officially well past over. He’s glad for it, and thankful he won’t have another period-heat for six months.

Dean yawns quietly, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand. They’re both in the family room right now, but it feels awkward between them. After all that touching they did while Dean was in heat, being seated a few feet from each other feels... _wrong_. Dean wants to lean into Cas, or let Cas rest his head on Dean’s thighs. He wants to be close to his alpha but Dean doesn’t want to instigate something if Cas is only going to be distant. Cas probably just pitied him while he was in heat, and tried to help. Dean stretches his legs out in front of him, tilting his head back against the back of the sofa. That has to be it.

He sighs quietly, barely a noise. Dean is also really bored right now. Sure, this movie isn’t that bad but it’s not something that’s really catching and holding his attention at the moment. And Dean’s paying more attention to Cas, anyways, who is seated in the middle of the sectional, legs crossed at the knee as he scrolls through something on his phone. Dean sighs again, louder, and sits up straight, grabbing a pillow and placing it on his lap, resting his elbows on it and his chin on his hands. Dean bounces his leg, shaking the couch ever so slightly, and taps his fingers against his cheeks.

“Dean.”

“What?” he mutters. Now he talks, huh.

“Please stop,” Cas says, sounding distracted. Dean glances at him, watching as he types a message on his phone and sends it. He can’t read it from this distance but he knows it’s a text.

“Stop what?” He’s still bouncing his leg. He does it a little harder, a little faster.

“ _Dean_.” A clear warning.

Dean stops bouncing his leg. “At least look at me when you talk to me,” he can’t help but say. Cas immediately stops typing, and Dean sees a few puzzling expressions flit across his face before it becomes nearly blank. He slowly lowers his hands and lifts his head, directing his blue gaze at Dean’s face.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says slowly. “I was catching up on work.”

“Looked more like you were texting your side hoe,” Dean replies with an easy grin. Cas bristles immediately, eyes narrowing. Dean huffs and stands up, tossing the pillow onto the couch. “I’m gonna go find something to eat.”

He’s not really hungry but he needs something to do. There’s nothing good on TV and he doesn’t really know how to work the movie thingy Cas has, and he doesn’t feel like asking him. Dean shuffles into the kitchen, looking around with a frown. He opens the fridge door and stares at the fresh vegetables, milk carton and various juices. He crouches down and digs in one of the clear drawers at the bottom, finding a milk chocolate bar. _Not too bad,_ he thinks. Dean shuts the drawer and grabs a carton of orange juice. He pours himself a glass then closes the fridge door, sipping the sweet, pulp-less beverage with a contented sigh. He’s not a huge fan of orange juice but this brand is damn delicious.

Dean rips open his chocolate bar and breaks off a few rectangles. He lets each piece slowly melt on his tongue, closing his eyes and humming. He opens his eyes when he hears a shuffle of bare feet, glancing over towards the doorway. Cas’ leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and a hesitant expression on his face.

“I’m sorry if you felt ignored or-” he says, then cuts himself off. He's quiet for a couple moments. “Would you- would you come down into my office when you’re done? I would like to show you something.” Dean stares at him for a few seconds, trying to think what it is that Cas wants him to see. He comes up with nothing. He nods, and earns a smile in reply. “Great.”

Cas turns on his heel and disappears around the corner, feet padding down the hall and towards the stairs. Dean folds the wrapper over the rest of the candy bar, tossing the last piece he broke off into his mouth. He returns the chocolate bar to the drawer and finishes off his juice, washing the glass and setting it to dry on the rack.

He brushes his hands down his shirt as he walks out of the room, heading towards the stairs. Cas’ office is in the basement, a medium sized room with bookcases and a desk, and a small coffee table with a loveseat and two single seats. There’s also the laundry room next to the office, another room with a heavy bag and weight bench and treadmill. The last room, the biggest room, is a playroom. Cas hasn’t let him see it yet.

Dean skips down the stairs, heading for the second room on the right of the stairs. He knocks on the ajar door, waiting for Cas to say he can come in before entering. Dean shuts the door fully out of habit, and shuffles over to where Cas sits on the loveseat. Cas pats the spot to his right, so Dean sits beside him.

“I got a package a short while ago,” Cas begins, clenching and unclenching his hands. “It’s that gift I wanted to give you the other day.” He gestures to the beautiful, hand-crafted dark mahogany box sitting on the table before them. “Please open it, Dean, it’s all yours.”

Dean reaches to touch the box, but Castiel reaches his right hand out and grasps Dean’s left wrist. He pauses and glances at his alpha, frowning. Cas looks nervous. “Th-the items in this box are to be used at your discretion. I-” Cas smiles lightly, cutting himself off with a small head shake. “Sorry. Open it. Please.”

He lets go of Dean’s wrist, folding his hands neatly in his lap and sitting back to relax into the soft cushion behind him. Dean pulls the box a little closer to his side of the table, shuffling his butt forward and flicking open the gold latch on the side of the rectangular box. Dean lifts the lid, resting the top against the table. He freezes at what he sees, his lips parting and his heart thumping hard in his chest. His mouth moves but nothing comes out, so he forces himself to press his lips together. Dean shakily touches one of the golden tags nestled in the box.

The tip of his finger brushes against a cool gold bone-shaped tag. ‘Puppy,’ it reads in an elegant cursive font. Cas’ handwriting. His throat tightens, and his eyes water. This is... They'd picked these out together, but Dean had no idea Cas would use his own handwriting for the tags. And seeing them in person, not just on a computer screen, it's too much. He moves his finger to touch a paw-shaped tag with the word ‘Kitty’ engraved into its surface. ‘Little’ is lollipop-shaped. ‘Masochist’ is paddle-shaped. ‘Sub’ is heart-shaped. There are more but-

Dean pulls his hand away, clenching both hands in his lap, and stares at the words until they blur. Cas doesn’t say anything beside him, doesn’t move and doesn’t breathe too loud. Dean lifts his head and his eyes, turning to stare at a blurry Cas. That’s when his alpha moves, sitting forward, sliding closer and cupping Dean’s face in his hands. He pulls Dean in for a hug, rubbing his hand up and down Dean’s spine, his lips pressing multiple kisses to the side of his head, other hand petting the nape of his neck. Dean’s so overwhelmed by the tags. These little pieces of gold. Gold. He can't believe Cas used gold.

He’s had tags before, dozens of them. But they were all insignificant. Plain aluminum circles that bent if he wasn’t careful; simple block writing. These are- they’re special. Dean pulls away from Castiel, and his alpha lets him go reluctantly, sitting back but keeping one hand on Dean's thigh and the other on his lower back. Dean rubs at his eyes, embarrassed but grateful that he hadn’t actually outright sobbed, and looks at the box again so he doesn’t have to see Cas’ expression. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice shaky and a little raspy. He clears his throat. “I... like them.”

“I’m glad,” Cas replies. He lifts the hand on Dean's lower back and gently running his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean reaches out again, and while he aims for the puppy tag, his fingers hover between the little and masochist tags. His stomach flips as he finally settles for picking up the masochist tag. It feels strong between his fingers, and yet so delicate at the same time. Dean settles his arms on his thighs, his left forearm resting over Cas’ right hand. Dean looks over at Cas, showing the tag to him. Dean wants to play, but he’s not sure if Cas does.

Dean likes pain in certain situations, it’s soothing in its own way. He sort of feels like hurting tonight, floating into another reality and _maybe_ letting Cas take care of him. Cas reaches out and takes the tag from him carefully, looking at it with a small smirk. “Would you like to be hurt tonight, sweet boy?” he asks, tone teasing but somehow serious at the same time.

“Y,” Dean cuts himself. He clears his throat again. “Yes... Ah, s-sir.” His heart thumps harshly. It feels like forever since he’s last played but that's not true. He’s just nervous. He’s so nervous he can’t even pinpoint the exact reason why; maybe it’s because he’s feeling like it'll be okay to submit to Cas, maybe it’s because he actually feels a little more than a modicum of trust for him and doesn’t want to be hurt, or maybe because this might be the first time in years - ever, actually - he’s actually playing with someone he wants to. He's playing with _his_ alpha; only his.

“Okay, sweet boy. Tilt your head back,” Cas says quietly, lifting his hands. Dean tilts his head back, feeling Cas carefully hook the top of the tag to the small ring in the front of his collar. He pulls his hands back, and Dean lowers his head a little. “It looks good.” Cas has a sweet little smile on his face as he stares at the tag, his eyes bright and pleased and happy.

“Mm.” Dean reaches up and touches the tag, biting his inner cheek. What were they going to do? How is Cas going to make him hurt? Where is Cas going to make him hurt? They’ve talked about this in detail, worked it out into writing too, but Dean’s not sure if Cas will stay true to his word. Yes, he trusts his alpha, but Dean has a right to be scared of him. If he stays true to what he said - and Dean really hopes he will, then maybe Dean can start to really trust him. If he doesn’t... Dean won’t think about that. Not right now.

Cas stands up and walks to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a set of keys. “Come on, sweet boy,” he says, opening his office door and stepping out. Dean stands up, taking a second to close and latch the box with his tags, then follows after Cas. The man is standing in front of a door. His small gym is to Dean’s right, the laundry room is to the left, so that leaves... Oh. Dean swallows thickly. Playroom. His heart thumps with excitement as he gets closer, stopping a few feet away. Cas picks one of the keys, a silver one with a red dot, and unlocks the handle of the door. He pushes it open just a little, reaching a hand inside and flicking the lights on.

“Come here, Dean.” He steps closer. “Hands out.” Dean lifts his hands, palms up. “Put these away,” Cas says, dropping the keys into Dean’s awaiting hands. He frowns but turns around and walks back into the office, dropping the keys into the same drawer he saw Cas open.

He eagerly shuts it and walks back out, heading towards the playroom. Cas is already inside. Dean pushes the door open and steps inside, glancing around. It’s... well, it’s completely the opposite of what he was expecting. The playrooms that Dean was usually in at Haven were big and dark, full of whips and chains and dildos and any kind of sexual toy someone could imagine, even some seriously damaging looking items that did not look fun. He expected at least something a little similar to that.

It’s not as big as he thought it would be. There’s a king bed against the far wall, in the middle, covered in a thick navy blue comforter and full of fluffy pillows. There’s a bench covered in dark grey leather in the far left corner, and a dresser along the same wall as the door. Dean steps deeper into the playroom, shutting the door behind himself. The floor is really soft and cushy, he sinks a little into it. It’s dark grey leather too, soft and cool, kind of like the gel pillows they use in the age play room at Haven - Dean hasn't been in that room since he was in his early teens. Is it a type of gel pillow... floor? Dean’s not sure.

He glances to his right, finding a door. It’s another room, a room that takes up the entirety of the right wall. He frowns but doesn’t ask about it. He’ll eventually find out, Dean hopes. Cas stands in the middle of the room, watching him look around. Overall, minus the bench, this looks like a regular bedroom with it’s soothing light blue walls.

“I’m going to spank you, Dean,” Cas says suddenly, catching his attention. Dean swallows, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. This isn’t like last time. It’s not a punishment. He knows that. And still fear creeps up his spine and makes him shiver. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. “Bench, bed or knee?” No! It is a good idea. Dean wants this. This is not discipline, not meant to make him feel bad. This is for sexual gratification. Dean asked for pain, because he feels like embracing sharp stings and getting off to them. He can trust Cas. He can do this.

Dean turns his attention the bench. It looks comfy, and like it’ll hold him really well with its many cuffs but it’s also impersonal. The bed, the bed could work. Laying on it, bent over it, he could do it. Cas’ knee, however, that sounds _really_ good. “Last,” he finally murmurs, face warming up. There’s something about the thought of being erotically spanked over Cas’ knee that makes him feel fuzzy and warm.

“Wonderful,” Cas says, a small grin on his face. “Remove your shirt and pants, fold them and place them on the dresser.” Dean pulls his shirt over his head, folding it neatly. He walks over to the dresser, sinking into the floor with each step. It’s so squishy and nice beneath his bare feet. He drops his shirt on the dresser, glancing towards Cas as he opens the other door and disappears inside. Dean tugs his pants off, folding them and dropping them on top of his shirt. He hesitates on his underwear; he’s just wearing a pair of boxers that he stole from Cas’ drawer. They’re old and soft and comfy, and definitely not sexy. He should have worn panties today. “Leave them,” Cas says, stepping out of the room and shutting the door. He’s holding a paddle, a cane and a set of thickly padded black buckle cuffs.

Cas walks over to the bed, sitting down at the end. He sets the cane and paddle down to his right, holding only the cuffs. “Come here, Dean,” he orders, crooking a finger at him. Dean swallows, anxious, and walks over, raising a brow at Cas. The other man just smiles easily in reply and gestures for Dean to turn around. Reluctantly, he does.

Cas attaches the cuffs to his wrists, locking them together and leaving his hands at the small of his back. Cas turns him around, and guides Dean between his spread legs and over his left thigh. Dean shifts a bit, getting comfortable over his leg. His clothed cock twitches against Cas’ inner thigh but doesn’t harden. He’s excited right now but anxiety is slightly overpowering and dampening the other feeling.

_Fuck,_ Dean suddenly thinks. _What if he starts leaking?_ It’s not that big of a deal but Dean doesn’t enjoy the sticky, itchy, weird sensation of slick dripping out of his asshole and down his thighs. Every since those stupid wet dreams he’s been able to produce slick more easily and it kind of sucks. It really sucks. Cas places his other leg over Dean’s calves, rubbing at his ass with his right hand. It's so stupid. Why does a male omega have to get so wet when aroused, anyways? Females don't get as wet as them, they don't soak through two layers of clothes if they do get aroused. It's annoying as hell and awkward.

“Are you ready?” Cas asks. Dean glances back at Cas, finding a pair of dark blue eyes gazing at him. He shifts his hips ever so slightly and feels a nice solid thickness against his hip. Ah. Dean breathes a few times, trying to settle himself. It takes him almost a minute to completely relax. Cas waits patiently the whole time, still rubbing over Dean's ass cheeks. It's very oddly soothing.

“Yes, sir,” he finally says. Cas hums with approval at the honorific.

“Safewords?” Cas asks.

“Edelweiss. And-” Dean holds up two fingers, index and middle, as his silent safeword. Dean doesn't plan on using his safewords even if he feels the need to. Cas rubs the middle of Dean’s back with his left hand, more approval. Dean's heart thumps happily.

“Be good for me, sweet boy. Don’t kick, don’t squirm and _please_ , do feel free to make as much noise as you want,” Cas drawls, squeezing Dean’s ass cheeks in his hand. He’s warming him up, getting the blood flowing and readying him for a good and proper spanking. Dean breathes deeply, and forces himself to remain relaxed into the bed and Cas. _I can trust him. I can do this,_  Dean repeats it over and over. Dean closes his eyes, trying to patiently wait for Cas to grab the paddle and start. He feels his boxers being tugged down to his knees, and lifts his hips a touch to help. Dean settles back down again, breathing slowly, toes wiggling, as Cas drags his nails over his ass cheeks and the tops of his thighs.

His hand slips down between Dean’s legs, grabbing and squeezing his balls gently. Dean sighs softly, cock swelling against Castiel’s leg as the man plays with his balls. He tries not to squirm, but fails, rocking his hips with pleasure. Cas pulls his hand away, and suddenly there’s pain blossoming from his right ass cheek.

He jumps at the unexpected slap, bristling for a second. Right, spanking. Dean melts into the sheets and Cas as another slap lands on his upper left thigh. His breathing is already picking up its pace, excitement practically oozing off of him, overpowering the nervousness. This really is so very different than when Cas spanked him as a punishment. That had immediately felt bad, and Dean had hated every second, but this- this is careful, slow and hard and _pleasurable_. He groans as another slap lands on his ass, lightly biting his bottom lip.

“Mm,” Cas chuckles. “You should see your perky little ass, sweet boy. It’s already turning a lovely shade of pink.” Dean tries to stop it but a small whine slips past his lips. That’s not fair. Cas shouldn’t be allowed to talk; his voice already sounds rougher than usual - if that’s even really possible, his tone laced with a dark hunger that makes Dean’s stomach flip and his cock twitch.

Cas takes his time, making sure to properly redden the backs of Dean’s thighs and his ass. He stops after maybe a couple dozen spanks, rubbing his hot palm against Dean’s backside. He whimpers softly at the stinging and rocks his hips, grinding his cock against Cas’ thigh. Cas digs his nails into his skin, dragging them down from the top of his ass cheek to the top of his knee, doing the same to the other side. It aches, and it’s almost unpleasant. Then he reaches between Dean’s thighs and grasps his cock, squeezing him lightly in his hand and stroking him.

“O-Oh,” Dean can’t help but gasp, surprised. He squirms a little but immediately stops moving when the hand tightens to just shy of painful. “Cas,” he whispers, biting his lip. He releases his lip from between his teeth and clenches his jaw as he feels wetness between his cheeks. He starts shifting again, because he’s embarrassed and he can’t help it. Cas seems to pick up on the feeling, and lets him, pulling his hand away from Dean’s cock and instead running his finger along his crack.

Dean jerks his hips, toes curling, and squeezes his cheeks together with a small moan. “Ah!” He yelps as Cas slaps his left ass cheek. Dean reluctantly relaxes his ass and lets Cas slide his finger up and down his crack. He tenses when Cas stops over his hole, holding his breath as Cas carefully pushes a finger inside of him. Dean whines into the sheets, trying to pull his hands apart and arch his back. His hole flutters around Cas’ finger, clenching and unclenching and trying to simultaneously pull him in deeper and push him out.

Cas pulls his finger out and Dean’s left feeling empty, clenching around nothing and wishing for something. Something cool rubs over his hot ass, dipping down to his equally as warm thighs. It’s thick and wide and long and- The cold firmness leaves his ass and the air whistles and a sharp _smack!_ practically echoes throughout the room, pain blossoming in the middle of his ass.

“Y- Ah- Sh-shit-” Dean stutters out, thighs trembling and ass throbbing from the harsh hit from the paddle. Cas doesn’t pause, he lifts his arm and drops another heart-stuttering _smack!_ to Dean’s ass in almost the same spot. “F-fuck,” he rasps, eyes wide. Slick leaks down over his inner thighs and balls, coating his twitching cock and dripping onto Cas’ pants, and maybe the floor too. Another stinging _smack!_ lands on his sensitive thighs, forcing a sharp cry from Dean’s throat. Cas is relentless, peppering his thighs and ass cheeks with _smack!_ after _smack!_ after _smack!_ It hurts so bad and it feels so good at the same time, his cock pulsing and leaking precum. “A-alpha,” he whines, squeezing his wet eyes shut and trying not to squirm. He wants to be good, he can be good, he needs to show Cas he can be good. 

“Just a little more, sweet boy,” Cas says softly, rubbing his left hand up and down Dean’s spine. Dean shakes his head, whimpering as he feels the cane carefully brush over his aching thighs.

“W-wanna come,” he rasps, panting heavily. “P-plea- _Please_.”

“I know, sweet boy. Can you handle the cane?" Dean whimpers but nods. "How many can you do, Dean? Be honest with me.” He shakes his head again, then swallows dryly and holds up five fingers shakily. “Five? Are you sure? I don’t want to push you, sweetheart.” Cas sounds so hesitant. Dean’s chest fills with warmth. "You don't have to do any."

“Yeah,” he swallows. He can take five, he wants five. “Five. Ah, please, sir.”

“I’ll count them,” Cas says gently. "I'll be quick."

“No-” Dean forces himself to turn his head and look back at Cas. “I wanna count.” His alpha nods, quirking a brow at Dean before lifting the cane. He hesitates for a second, glancing at Dean's face before turning his gaze to Dean’s ass. He moves quick, bringing the cane down across Dean’s ass. “AH! Shit, shit, shit,” Dean curses, tensing his body and squeezing his eyes shut, toes curling and ass clenching. “O-one, sir.”

“You’re such a good boy for me, Dean,” Cas says softly. “My sweet, good boy.” Dean forces himself to relax his body. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

The cane lands across his thighs this time, and Dean barely stammers out a, “Two, sir.” The pain is horrible, and yet he’s still hard as a rock and his damn ass is dripping messily with slick. Another hit lands on his right ass cheek, rapidly followed by one on his left. “Th-three, four, sir-r.” The last hit lands across both cheeks. “F-five-ve, s-” Cas puts the cane to the side and tugs Dean up to stand between his legs.

Dean’s legs are too weak to properly support him, so Cas has to grip his hips tightly and keep him upright. Dean doesn't wanna be standing but it turns out to be worth being upright, because Cas leans his head down and wraps his lips around the head of Dean’s cock, swallowing him down to the base and sucking so good and th- Dean lets out a soft sob as he comes into Cas’ mouth, tugging fruitlessly at the cuffs holding his wrists behind his back, arching and bucking his hips, knees weakening even further somehow. 

He feels so pleasantly floaty all of a sudden, and lets Cas maneuver him however he wants. He registers the cuffs being taken off, the softness of a bed beneath his belly, the coolness of liquid sliding down his parched throat, the cold sliminess of something rubbing over his pulsing ass and thighs, the warmth of a person sliding up beside him; kisses and gentle fingers and whispers of praise being spoken into his ear.

"-wonderful-"

"-precious-"

"-good-"

"-beautiful-"

" _Mine._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was okay. please tell me if someone seems off or wrong! thanks for taking the time to read this. please leave a comment if you liked it. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i'm so glad you guys liked the last chapter! your comments made me smile a lot! <3

****Dean wakes up wrapped tightly in a pair of arms, his face tucked into a bare chest. He blinks a few times, throat dry and head fuzzy. Dean squirms in the arms, feeling too warm, and rolls onto his back. He gasps at the painful feeling that immediately makes itself known in his ass and thighs. It's not bad but it surprises him enough that he jerks up to his knees. He hears a noise and lifts his head with quickly flushing cheeks, locking eyes with a _very_ amused Cas. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” he drawls, looking like he’s about to laugh. Dean clenches his jaw and glares at him, dropping onto his side with a wince and curling up carefully.

Cas yawns and turns onto his back, taking a second to stretch his body. He turns back onto his side, propping his head up with his left hand, and gazing at Dean with an assessing stare. “I wasn’t too harsh, was I?” he asks softly, reaching out and touching Dean’s left hand with his free one. Dean shakes his head and tugs on Cas’ hand, trying to pull him closer. Cas moves willingly, rolling Dean onto his back with a smirk and leaning over him on his hands and knees. Dean groans softly, lifting his hips up with a frown. Cas drops his head down and presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, nipping lightly at the bottom one.

“You suck,” Dean mutters.

“I do,” Cas teases, eyes sparkling. “And you seemed to enjoy my sucking ability last night.”

“Doesn’t count,” he says, trying not to pout. “I was distracted.” Cas raises an eyebrow and shifts his legs, straddling Dean’s thighs and putting his weight on them. Dean’s legs still feel weak, and he drops back onto the bed with a soft whine. He fists the sheets in his hands, gritting his teeth against the new pain in his ass and thighs.

“Hmm...” Castiel hums. He sits up and gazes down at Dean with another calculated stare. Something dark and wicked and hungry flashes across his blue eyes, and Dean’s stomach flips with excitement. “Would you like to join me for a shower?” Cas asks, tilting his head back.

Dean hesitates, then nods. Cas smiles and slides off of him and the bed. He helps Dean stand up, and guides him into the bathroom. Cas turns the shower on while Dean takes a moment to brush his teeth. Cas steps up behind him and starts undoing his collar, which makes Dean frown around his brush. Cas presses a kiss to the back of his now bare neck and sets the collar on the sink counter gently. Dean gets why he took it off, not wanting to ruin it, but he doesn't like it. Cas then joins Dean, standing beside him and scrubbing at his teeth with his own brush. Dean rinses his mouth and brush, putting it away, then walks over to the shower, stepping inside.

It’s, thankfully, low-pressured right now, because it’s still early, but it’s soothingly hot and he sighs softly, relaxing under the steady stream. Dean rubs at his body with just the water, spreading it over his skin and warming his body up nicely. He shivers at the cool air that drifts inside when Cas steps in, but doesn’t let it bother him. Dean glances at his alpha and swallows thickly, shuffling on his feet.

Cas had been wearing lounge pants earlier, but now he’s naked and Dean’s realizing that he’s never seen Cas completely naked. He’s seen him without a shirt, without pants, but he’s always had something covering his lower body... his cock. Dean bites his lip and, as discreetly as he can, glances down between Cas’ thick thighs, ass unconsciously clenching at the sight of his fat, long cock.

“While I find it quite adorable, I think you should close your mouth, sweetheart,” Cas says. Dean jerks his head up, lips pressing together, a blush forming as he catches sight of Cas’ amused expression. Cas steps closer and slides his hands into Dean’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into his scalp. His touch is soft but firm, and Dean melts under his fingers with a soft groan and drooping eyes. Cas takes his time, rubbing his scalp and neck. Dean holds back a whine when he stops. He reluctantly lets himself be pulled closer to the steady stream of water. Cas rinses the shampoo from his hair, just as gentle as when he rubbed it in.

Dean opens his eyes and reaches for Cas, slowly sliding his hands down his alpha’s wet chest. His gaze follows his hands all the way to Cas’ cock, fingers carefully wrapping around the flaccid member and squeezing him lightly. Cas groans softly, leaning forward, his thick cock pulsing and slowly hardening in Dean’s grip. His hands cup Dean’s cheeks, tilting Dean’s head back and making him lift his gaze to Cas’ face. He shivers as Cas presses their lips together, leaning further into him as he deepens the kiss.

Cas pulls him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean’s back and forcing him to let go of his cock. Dean instead wraps his arms firmly around Cas’ neck and shoulders, arching his back and rocking his hips, just barely brushing their cocks together. The feeling makes Dean’s knees weak, and he moans softly into Cas’ mouth, the noise getting swallowed up by his alpha.

Cas slides both of his hands down Dean’s back, gliding over his still sore ass cheeks and grabbing one in each hand, squeezing. Dean gasps and opens his eyes to find Cas already gazing at him with a dark, hungry stare. He groans and arches his back even more, nipping at Cas’ bottom lip as he feels the man spread his cheeks apart and rub a finger against his hole.

“Cas,” he tries, only to be cut off by a pair of lips. He whines and rolls his hips, feeling himself start to get wet. Dean’s cock rubs against Cas’ and it feels amazing, and then he’s distracted by Cas sliding his finger into his hole with careful, slow movements. “Shit,” he curses, dropping his head and pressing his face into Cas’ shoulder.

“Do you like that?” Cas asks lowly, voice rough. He slowly fucks his finger in and out of Dean’s asshole. “Or does your greedy little hole need more?” Dean gasps quietly at his words, feeling him rub another finger around Dean’s rim, taunting. He pulls his arm from around Dean and instead reaches between their bodies, grasping both of their dicks in his hand and squeezing.

Dean’s drastically smaller than Cas, and he’s embarrassed by that fact when he knows he shouldn’t be. Cas strokes them both slowly, tightly. He hums softly, nuzzling and kissing against Dean’s jaw, eyes soft and warm and at the same time full of want and need. His gaze makes Dean’s tummy flutter and his cheeks warm and his heart beat faster, and all his reaction does is make that look even softer, warmer, and needier.

Cas kisses over to Dean's ear, rubbing his lips over the shell. “Since you couldn’t appreciate my skills last night,” Cas murmurs. He pulls his finger from within Dean, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing, leaking down his thighs. He nudges Dean completely away from the water, pressing him against the cold tile wall and forcing a shiver from his body. He grips Dean’s hips, dropping to his knees and swallowing down Dean’s cock in one smooth slide, groaning softly around him.

“Fuck,” Dean gasps, immediately fisting his hand in Cas’ hair and gripping the back of his neck with his other. Dean’s thighs tremble as Cas lazily sucks at him, tongue laving at the underside of his cock. He moans loudly, tilting his head back and knocking it against the hard wall. Cas chuckles around him, and it’s almost enough to make Dean come but he holds back, gritting his teeth.

Cas’ right hand slides between Dean’s thighs, nudging his balls, moving past his perineum and rubbing over his hole. Dean feels him easily slide his finger back inside, and clenches tightly around him before relaxing with a contented sigh. Cas avoids his prostate, and eases up on Dean’s cock. He gingerly prods against Dean, sliding another finger in beside the first. It's uncomfortable but Dean’s body is made for this so he easily adjusts, slick leaking out around Cas’ long fingers. Cas slowly scissors his fingers in and out of Dean, spreading him.

Cas’ other hand's fingers tap against Dean’s hip, so he forces himself to lift his head and look down at his alpha. Cas’ eyes sparkle up at him, and he twists his fingers inside of Dean, rubbing the pads over Dean’s prostate. “O-oh-” Dean chokes, eyes widening as pleasure erupts and sends bolts of bliss through his body. Dean feels his legs weaken as Cas keeps rubbing, but his alpha is quick, wrapping his arm around Dean's hips and keeping him upright. Cas shuffles his knees further apart, pressing them against the sides of Dean's feet, forcing him to keep his legs spread apart.

His knees really feel like they’re about to give out, and they probably would have by now if it weren't for Cas' arm. Dean's stomach clenches tightly and his ass flutters around Cas' fingers and his heart pounds and his cock twitches and- Dean cries out softly, gazing down into Cas' eyes with parted lips as he comes in his mouth. His alpha looks so pleased, swallowing and milking Dean of every last drop of come. He whines as Cas finally pops off of his cock and pulls his fingers from his ass, sitting back on his ass and watching Dean slide down the wall, panting. Cas grabs his hips and pulls Dean's into his lap, his legs wrapped loosely around his alpha's waist. He kisses Dean’s jaw and then his neck, arms wrapping tightly around him.

“Was good,” Dean mutters finally, having caught his breath. Cas laughs quietly into his neck, his shoulders shaking and his abdomen jerking with each breath. “Shaddup,” he growls, pulling away. He slips off of Cas' lap, sitting down on the hard tile with a wince. Dean’s gaze drops to Cas’ dick, and he frowns because he’s still hard and Dean remembers that he’s never gotten him off before. When he looks back up at Cas’ face, he sees that his alpha is done laughing and looks a little... guilty? “What?”

“You’re not obligated to, ah,” Cas clears his throat, “get me off.” Dean realizes with a jolt that he said that out loud and flushes. “I’ll be okay, Dean. I just wanted to make you feel good,” he says, smiling awkwardly. Dean frowns and sits up on his knees, reaching for Cas only to have his hands pushed away with a shake of the head. “No, Dean.”

“But...” Dean frowns, confused. Cas shakes his head again and stands up with a wince, rubbing at his reddened knees. Dean reaches up and grabs his hips, quickly but tentatively giving a small lick to the head of Cas’ cock before the man can stop him. Dean shudders at the sharp, musky taste of him and does it again when Cas doesn’t push him away. He looks up at his alpha, and barely holds back a grin at his surprised, slightly worried, and definitely very pleased expression. “Please, alpha," he whispers, watching Cas' eyes widen. "I want your cock.”

“Dean... I-” Cas bites his lip. “I don’t wish to push you.” Dean closes his eyes so Cas doesn’t see him roll his eyes, and wraps his lips around the head of Cas’ cock, sucking lightly but firmly. Cas inhales softly, gently rolling his hips and sliding more of his cock into Dean’s mouth. His hands grip Dean’s hair lightly, holding his head in place and not letting him suck more of his cock into his mouth. Dean growls lowly in his throat, because he wants to taste more of Cas, and nips carefully at him.

“Fuck-” Cas growls, looking down at Dean with a sharp stare, grip loosening on his hair. Dean pops off of his cock with a cheeky grin, blinking up at his alpha. “Dean,” he warns, eyes narrowing. Dean licks his lips and wraps them around Cas’ dick again, sliding down the length, taking more and more of him into his mouth. He chokes once the head hits the back of his throat, and winces because that hasn't happened since the beginning of his training - it seems that he’s getting out of practice, and pulls back. He forces himself to relax his throat and swallow down the rest of him, shivering as he feels Cas pulse inside of his mouth.

Cas is huge, forcing his mouth to spread wide open. His jaw immediately starts aching but Dean ignores it because it's worth it. He swallows around Cas' cock and hears the man let out a loud, satisfied moan. Dean hums softly, using his hands to massage the knot already forming at the base, and roll his heavy balls in his hand. Cas breathes heavily from above, and tightens his grip on Dean’s hair again. “Dean- I- I don’t think I’m going to last very long,” he says quietly, sounding embarrassed. “It’s, uhm, it's been a while.”

Dean pulls back with a grin. “I know,” he says, voice raspy. He sucks and licks at Cas’ cock, paying special attention to the nerves just below the head of his cock on the underside. Dean feels his knot growing in his hand and squeezes tighter, sucking firmly on the head. “Come on, alpha,” he whispers over the stream of water, panting between sucks. “Come in my mouth. Fill me up. Please,” he whines the last part, blinking wide eyes up at Cas.

“Dean,” Cas says, a mix of a groan and a whine and a growl. He tilts his head back and jerks his hips, knot fattening quickly in Dean’s hand, forcing him to wrap his other one around him too. Dean closes his eyes and sucks Cas down again, bobbing his head up and down the length of his cock, come splattering into his mouth over and over and over. His knot is huge and Dean’s a little worried that maybe it won’t fit in his ass, but he trusts Cas, his alpha will know how to make him take every last inch with minimal discomfort.

Dean hums happily around him, rubbing his knot and sucking his cock until he feels Cas begin to calm down. It takes a long time for his knot to go down but that's okay because it’s been a while and Cas deserves to feel good for all he's done for Dean. And thankfully the shower stays nice and hot and steamy. It’s not the comfiest on his knees on tile but it’s not as bad as when Zachariah used to make him kneel on those dumb slabs of split marble. Dean leans back with a pleased smile, gazing up at Cas.

“Thank you,” his alpha rasps, flushed. Dean feels fuzzy, warm and happy.

* * *

Dean watches as Cas plates their food, and grins at his alpha as he sets a plate full of eggs, toast and bacon down in front of him. Dean patiently waits until Cas is seated with his own plate next to him, spreading a napkin over his lap because he's fancy, apparently. "Thanks, Cas, but I already ate," he says.

His words make Cas freeze with confusion. His alpha turns to gaze at him, eyes narrowed. He stares at him for a few seconds, looking confused and adorable with his head tilted and his brows furrowed. “I’ve been with you all morning, Dean,” Cas says slowly. “I never saw you eat anything.”

“Sure you did,” Dean says, shuffling so he’s sideways on his chair. “You fed me after all,” he continues, smiling and blinking as innocently as he can. It takes Cas a whole fifteen second to understand what he means. When he does, though, he tilts his head back with a deep laugh and grabs Dean’s hips, hauling him into his lap. It’s a tight squeeze between the counter and Cas, but Dean doesn’t mind.

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas mutters, chuckling and pressing a kiss to his lips. Dean shifts to straddle his legs properly and return the kiss. “I’m sure you’re still hungry, Dean,” Cas says against his lips, leaning back. “Are you going to eat?” He's smiling, eyes bright and amused and full of happiness. Dean's stomach flutters with his own happiness, and he can't help but return Cas' smile.

“Mhm...” Dean drops his head onto Cas’ shoulder, brushing his nose against his neck. “I’m too lazy.” Dean feels Cas tense a little as he considers what to to do. He smiles wider and presses a kiss to Cas’ neck, breathing in his scent. Dean grips Cas' shirt tightly, inhaling a few times and trying not to get so nervous. “Could you... please... uh, feed me?” his words come out slow, quiet, anxious.

“Oh,” Cas whispers, tensing and swallowing thickly. Dean watches his Adam's apple bob up and down his throat. “I- Dean, yes, of course.”

Dean relaxes against him, the anxious feeling dissipating quickly. “You eat first,” he says. “I’m still full.” Cas groans quietly in his ear, and then he chuckles. Dean giggles too, and then flushes because he hasn't giggled in a long time. Cas tightens his arms around him when he hears him giggle, pressing a kiss to the side of his head, then loosens his grip.

“It’s a little difficult to eat with you in my lap, sweet boy,” Cas says against his hair, amused.

“Don’t care.” Dean huffs.

“ _Dean._ ” It sounds like a warning but it’s ruined by the amusement so clearly evident in his voice. Dean sighs dramatically, earning another small laugh, and slides off of Cas’ lap, returning to his own seat. He watches Cas adjust his napkin and pick up his fork and begin eating, then turns away and gazes at the cupboards. Dean's so happy and it's a little terrifying, to be honest. This is all so new to him, and he’s not sure if he should be worried how easily he’s taking to their new dynamic. Cas is still his owner, his dictator, but it doesn’t even feel like that. Dean feels so much better, lighter and happier and... and he loves it. He’s warm, he's protected, he's perfectly safe and just so, _so_ happy. Honestly, what more can he ask for?

Okay, well, his brother, maybe. But he’s still too much of a chicken to try to find Sammy. What if his baby brother grew up bad? What if his brother is one of _those_ alphas? What if he grew up mean and rude and impatient and... _scary_? What if he doesn’t wanna see Dean? What if he doesn't know Dean exists? That's the worst thought. He hopes Sammy knows he's out there. That he's alive. That he didn't want to abandon him. Dean bites his bottom lip. There are so many bad thoughts and not enough good ones, and Dean’s just... petrified.

He jerks back to reality when he feels a hand in his hair, and turns his head to see Cas’ worried gaze. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks softly, turning towards Dean. Cas sniffs the air lightly, studying Dean with the same assessing stare from when they woke up. He smiles at Cas, trying to reassure him, and nods his head. He doesn't want to speak, but he wants to quell Cas’ worry. Cas doesn't seem to buy it. “Last night and this morning was new for us, Dean. I need to know if you’re feeling off. Please let me know if you need anything, I’m right here. I promise I’ll do my very best to help you.”

“’m fine, Cas,” he says, sighing. “I’m just thinking.”

Cas pulls his hand away and pushes his chair a little further away from the island. He tosses his napkin onto his empty plate and pats his lap. “Come here,” he says softly. His lap looks really inviting, comfy and safe and warm and it takes Dean barely three seconds to sit down on his legs, shifting a little to get comfortable with his still sore ass. “What are you thinking about?”

Dean shrugs, and looks down at his lap. “I dunno.”

Cas nods ever so slightly and doesn’t say anything. He wraps his arms around Dean tightly and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Okay, honey,” he whispers, hands rubbing against Dean’s body. The new name makes Dean’s stomach clench and his heart skip a beat. Dean lifts his left hand and grips at Cas’ t-shirt, nuzzling his nose into his alpha’s neck. He loves the way Cas speaks to him. It's always so soft, warm, and so sweet that it hurts. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to speak.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and holds him tighter. He loves everything Cas does for him. “Would you like to eat now, Dean?” he murmurs. Dean’s not hungry, but he nods anyways because he’ll feel bad if the food goes to waste. Cas shifts him away a little, and he just barely holds back a whimper. He doesn't want Cas to move. Cas presses a kiss to the side of his head and pulls Dean’s plate closer. He breaks Dean’s bacon and eggs and bread into pieces and makes little bites of bread, meat and egg. He feeds Dean each bite with his fingers, slow and attentive. Dean's heart flutters with more happiness. Cas presses kisses to his cheek and jaw and temple and nuzzles against his hair and ear as he feeds him; Dean can feel his smile.

It’s heartfelt and tender, and Dean feels overwhelmed and tired by the end of it. It’s definitely not the same as when Missouri used to feed him; it’s more intimate, more touchy, and somehow, even kinder. He clenches tighter at Cas' shirt as he thinks of her, a wave of sadness crashing into him. His misses her so much. She's his mama, she raised him, she took care of him, and she made sure he was healthy and happy. He’d give anything to hear her voice again.

"Why are you so sad, honey?" Dean shakes his head at Cas' question. He doesn't wanna answer. Cas sighs. “Are you tired?” Cas asks. Dean nods slowly, dropping his head back onto Cas’ shoulder. “Would you like to take a nap?” He nods again, closing his eyes and biting his lip. “Can you stand up for me, honey? Please?” He bites his inner cheek, and reluctantly slides off of Cas’ lap, shuffling away so Cas can stand up too. Cas does, and he takes their plates to the sink, quickly washing them and setting them to dry on the rack next to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and then walks back over to where Dean is standing.

He brushes the backs of his cool fingers against Dean’s cheek and smiles. “Come on,” he says, all gentle and soft. Dean blinks his suddenly stinging eyes a couple times and nods, letting Cas take his hand, shuffling after him. Cas leads him upstairs, but not into their bedroom. He stands outside Dean’s safe room, hesitating. “Where would you like to nap, Dean?” Cas always gives him choices, always lets him choose. Dean looks at the floor.

He points at the safe room door, and watches as Cas turns the handle, pushing it open. He gestures Dean to step inside, but hovers by the door instead of joining him in the room. It takes Dean a second to realize why. “You can come in,” he mutters, fidgeting. “You can always come in,” he says it even softer, and he’s not sure Cas hears him but he really hopes he does.

Maybe he does, but Dean doesn't know because he doesn't say anything. Cas shuts the door after stepping inside and says, “Thank you.” Cas guides him over to the bed, which is still unmade from when Dean got up the previous morning. He nudges Dean to climb into bed and hands him Squishy to curl up with.

“Stay,” Dean says, feeling panic swell in his chest as Cas steps away from the bed.

“I am,” he says, a small smile on his face. He shuffles over to Dean’s dresser, hesitating as he gazes at the drawers. “May I?” he asks, turning to look at Dean and gesturing to the dresser. Dean sits up carefully and nods, watching as he checks the top drawer and frowns, then checks the second drawer. He looks triumphant and reaches inside, pulling out the small blue baby blanket that used to be Sam’s.

Dean freezes, stomach clenching tight. There’s no way Cas can know that he thought about Sam earlier. He watches as Cas shuts the drawer and walks back to Dean, sliding under the covers and wrapping the blanket over Dean’s arms and Squishy. He doesn’t say anything, tucking the comforter up to his shoulders. He reaches his hand out and touches Dean’s hip, his thumb rubbing at the soft skin under Dean’s shirt.

“Thanks,” he mutters, blinking sleepily. Cas smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, and that’s the last thing Dean remembers before falling asleep. Still warm, still safe, still happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this was okay. <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thanks for all the amazing comments! i'm sorry for the lack of updates.

Dean yawns and stretches out across his bed, scrunching his face up and shivering, curling back under his blankets. He blinks his eyes open, staring across the room to an empty wall. He glances at his alarm clock, finding that it’s five in the afternoon. Cas should be home soon.

Dean sits up and shivers again at the cool air of the room that brushes over his boxer-clad body. He stands up, tugging on his previously discarded lounge pants and padding out of his room. He showered late in the morning, after he finished cleaning the house, so he’s clean and content. Dean quickly takes a piss, washing his hands and then his face. He brushes his teeth and rinses with some mouthwash, rinsing with water after.

Dean takes a moment to admire the bruises on his chest and shoulders and neck. The one’s on his neck aren’t as defined because the collar wouldn’t stop getting in the way last night, but it’s fine because the bruises covering his shoulder and chest are dark and tender and a perfect reminder of last night. They still haven't had sex yet, and Dean's not sure if he should be disappointed or not. He's still being plenty satisfied, and he's sure Cas is too. It's fine. Dean hums softly, cheeks flushing as he remembers Cas’ hungry gaze from the previous night.

He quickly steps out of the bathroom, glancing around their bedroom before heading over to the window. It’s got a perfect view of the neighborhood, and the best part, the glass of the windows are covered in a black film that doesn’t let anyone see inside. Dean spins on his heel and pads over to the door, rolling his shoulders and stepping a few steps down the stairs. He freezes when he hears voices. Lots of them. And laughter. Dean slowly sits down on the top step, listening closely. Cas is home, he recognizes his voice immediately. But there are others that he doesn’t know. At least three of them. Dean clenches his hands into fists, putting them in his lap, and stares down at his bare feet.

He hears feet padding lightly across the floor and tenses, scrambling up to his feet and hoping it’s not one of Cas’ guests. It’s not. It’s Cas himself. Cas stands at the bottom of the steps, looking tired but happy, still dressed in his work suit, minus the blazer and with his cuffs rolled up - a simple black three-piece with a white dress shirt and a dark green tie. He looks really good; Dean licks his lips.

Cas walks up the stairs, crowding into Dean’s space, sliding his arms around his waist and pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “Hi, honey,” he murmurs softly, eyes warm and happy. Dean grins a little, brushing his nose against Cas’. “You taste like mint.”

“Mm.” Dean shrugs. “You taste like coffee.” Cas nips at his bottom lip, pressing a kiss to his chin, and then tilting Dean’s head back. He presses another kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw, and then his throat and another half on his neck and half on his collar. Dean shivers and reaches his hands up, gripping Cas’ vest lightly.

“We have some uninvited guests,” Cas whispers, tucking his face into Dean’s shoulder. Dean makes a questioning noise, not wanting to actually ask but curious. “My siblings,” Cas answers, “and some of them came with their...” He hesitates, leaning back to look at Dean and clenching his jaw. “Their pets, as they love to call them.”

Cas looks guilty, and disgusted. He’s probably remembering that Dean is also a pet, specifically his pet. Dean reaches up a little more and runs his hand through Cas’ thick, already messy hair. “It’s okay,” Dean mutters, shrugging.

“It’s not,” Cas says immediately. Cas sighs and looks down at Dean’s bare chest. “I think it would be best if you put a shirt on.” Dean grins, and wiggles out of Cas’ grip, padding into their bedroom to grab one of Cas’ t-shirts from the closet. He picks a simple black shirt and walks out into the bedroom to see Cas sitting on their bed. “I just...” Cas fidgets, looking nervous and worried. “I would like to apologize in advance for anything they say or do to you, Dean. I will do my best-”

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean interrupts. “I can handle it.” He can. He thinks. Well, they can’t be that difficult. He’s dealt with hundreds of alpha’s while at Haven, and he’d been able to handle them all - mostly - fine. Cas sighs again and stands up, nodding.

“Come on,” he says, holding his hand out. Dean takes it and lets Cas lead of him out of the room. “And please remember, Dean,” Cas says, pausing at the top of the stairs. “You don’t need to act any different than usual. I would very much prefer it if you were your usual self.” Dean nods, and that earns him a tiny, grateful smile from Cas. “Thank you.”

Cas pulls him down the stairs and into the family room where five members of the Novak clan sit with at least one omega at their feet. Dean recognizes four of them. Jimmy is the first one he recognizes even though he’s never seen him before; it’s only because of his staggering resemblance to Cas, and yet it’s clear they’re definitely not the same. Jimmy is an alpha, like his older twin. He also recognizes Michael - he’s seen him in passing, another alpha, sitting with a straight back and a blank expression and a sharp suit. He’s a lot similar to Cas too, with dark styled hair and piercing blue eyes and a cleanly shaved jaw like Jimmy.

He also recognizes Raphael Cross and Anna Milton. To Dean’s slight surprise, Raphael is actually a black female dressed in a sharp suit. Again, another alpha too. Jesus, is every single one of them an alpha? And he knows Anna - alpha, of course - by her well-known bright red hair color. He doesn’t know the last person though. But that’s okay because Cas starts introducing them all.

“Everyone, this is Dean. Dean, this is Michael, Raphael, Jimmy, Anna. And that is Balthazar-” he points at each member as he says their name. Dean realizes Balthazar is the last person, a beta, and the one he didn’t know; he’s a dirty blond - more brown haired, really - man with a flirty gaze. He’s wearing a deep v-neck t-shirt and jeans. Cas doesn’t introduce the people kneeling at their feet. Dean knows it's improper to introduce another person's... pet. There is one male omega sitting next to Michael’s right leg, an female omega and male beta sitting on either side of Raphael, a red-headed female kneeling between Anna’s legs, and a brunette beta sitting beside and leaning into Jimmy on the sofa. There is no one with Balthazar.

Dean suddenly blanks. He doesn’t know what to do. What to say. He's so pathetic lately, forgetting all of his training. He settles on a weakly spoken, “Hi.” Anna smiles at him and offers him a small wave, but she doesn’t say anything. Raphael stares at him like he’s a bug and Balthazar eyes him up and down like he’s a piece of meat he wants to devour. Michael looks interested with him, but not in the same way Balthazar does. He seems curious, although it hardly shows on his face.

“Adam,” Michael says suddenly, surprising them. The omega at Michael’s feet lifts his head, and Dean recognizes him as one of the most popular pets from Haven. Wow. Michael got Adam? Dean knows for a fact Adam is - was - priced over a hundred grand.

“Yes, sir?” Adam asks, soft and sweet and meek.

“What can you tell me about Dean?” Michael asks, tilting his head a touch in a gesture eerily similar to Cas. Dean tenses, and Cas does too, and Dean just knows that his alpha is sending Michael a warning look. Which, of course, he ignores.

Adam hesitates for barely a second. “He was Haven’s most difficult pet, sir. He refused to obey the alpha’s and cost them a lot of money. Not many people wished to play with him anymore and Haven was going to get rid of him when he was sixteen.” Dean tries not to flinch. He remembers that. “Then Sir Adler came along and paid triple what he was worth for each session and they changed their minds because he was bringing in cash again. He never interacted much with the rest of the pets, and he was often broody and grumpy and rude to us. He was treated the worst out of all the pets. He-”

“That’s enough,” Michael says. Adam immediately shuts up. Of course he does, Adam was one of the most obedient pets at Haven. And the dude actually enjoyed being that obedient to anyone, it was always weird to Dean. How could he like listening to all those shitty alphas?

“He sounds like garbage to me,” Raphael comments offhandedly, her tone soft but piercing and strong. Dean clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes, staring Raphael dead in the eye and raising an eyebrow. The female quirks one right back at him and turns to face him fully, challenging him to say anything.

“The only garbage I see is you,” Dean says, smiling sweetly. Cas immediately touches his lower back and taps his fingers against Dean’s shirt. Dean can practically feel his amusement and hesitation, even as muted as it is. Raphael looks incredibly angry, sitting up straight and glaring at him.

“What did you just say to me, boy?” she snarls, moving to stand up. Dean lifts his head a little higher, squaring his shoulders and digging his toes into the floor.

“You heard me,” he says. Raphael stalks around the table, coming to stand barely five feet from where Dean is. Cas steps a foot forward, and Dean can feel the warning rolling off of him in waves. It’s thoughtful, he supposes, nice even, but Dean can handle himself. Maybe he can’t win against an alpha in a fight of brute strength but he knows how to dodge and block and counterattack. He knows how to get under their skin. Cas won’t let him get hurt, too.

“Say it again, boy, and see what happens,” Raphael says, looking like she’s ready to deck him, beat him down to his knees. Dean steps forward so there’s only three feet between them now.

“You. Are. The garbage.” He purposefully over-pronounces each word, watching Raphael’s face twist with anger. Raphael practically lunges at him, but she never makes it. Suddenly Michael is there, pushing and holding her back, and Cas is in front of him, blocking him from her view. He huffs softly.

Balthazar bursts out laughing from where he sits. “I like him,” he says in a surprising French accent. Interesting. Cas steps to the side after a long moment and Dean sees that Raphael is sitting in her previous spot and Michael is still standing in the same place. He looks at Dean with an indecipherable gaze, and then smirks ever so slightly before returning to his spot on the sofa.

“Dean, come,” Cas says, turning and walking into the kitchen. Dean shuffles after him, trying not to think about whether or not he’s mad. Cas crowds him against the island, hands on either side of Dean, gripping the marble. “That was very idiotic, Dean,” he says softly, closing his eyes for a moment. “And also very brave. No one has ever bothered to stand up to Raphael.” He opens his eyes and Dean sees a glimmer of amusement and pride. “I apologize for what she said. It was very rude.”

“No hard feelings,” Dean says, shrugging. “I insulted her too.”

“Indeed you did,” Castiel says, chuckling quietly and pressing a kiss to the left side of Dean’s jaw. He pulls back a touch, looking serious. Dean wonders if he's going to punish him.

“Enough kissing, I’m hungry,” someone says, strolling into the kitchen. Dean jumps a little, and turns to find Jimmy standing in the doorway, a grin on his face. Dean flushes and looks away. “Nice to meet you, Dean,” Jimmy says, padding closer and holding his hand out. “Cas always did like the feisty ones.”

“Jimmy, please,” Castiel groans softly. Dean shakes Jimmy’s hand carefully, frowning as he just gets a grin from the man. “Don’t embarrass anyone today. Specifically, me.”

“It’s my job as a younger brother,” Jimmy says, shaking his head dramatically.

“Do leave him be, Jimmy,” Michael drawls as he walks into the kitchen. He sits down at the island, right next to where Dean is leaning against it with Cas. Cas reluctantly steps away from him, so he can move away, but Dean doesn’t. He turns to stare at Michael, narrowing his gaze and studying him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy mutters. And then he starts raiding the fridge for food. Dean watches as Cas whacks his arm and makes shooing motions with his hands, directing Jimmy to the island. Cas starts pulling out meat and vegetables for dinner. Dammit, they’re all staying longer.

“So, Dean,” Jimmy says, beginning to peel a tangerine that he got from God knows where. Dean didn’t even know they had tangerines in the house. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” he answers, shuffling backwards and then hopping up onto the counter, leaning back against the cupboards. He’s facing the island, and of course, them. Jimmy hums, watching him as he pops a slice of the tangerine into his mouth and chews. “You?”

“Thirty-one,” he answers, squinting at him. So that means Cas is thirty-one as well. Good to know. But Cas is also over a decade older than him and it makes him feel immature and dumb.

“What do you guys do?” Dean asks. He glances at Cas as the alpha starts chopping the vegetables into smaller pieces so he can steam them in the pot he set on the stove.

“I’m an accountant,” Jimmy says around a slice of his tangerine. Dean looks back over at him, studying him with curiosity. An accountant? Interesting. He wonders what Cas does for a living. He looks at Michael, finding the man is already watching him, and frowns. Why isn’t he answering the question? Jimmy snorts. “Mike’s the CEO of the family business.” Family business? The CEO? Shit. CEO’s are the top of the food chain, right? Or is there someone higher than them? Dean doesn’t know but still, Michael’s pretty fuckin’ high up. “Do ya know what Cas does?”

“No,” Dean answers, sitting up straighter and looking at Jimmy. He tries not to seem too eager to know but he thinks he does a shit job of it. Cas immediately bristles, Jimmy grins mischievously and Michael just... leans back to watch the twins.

“It is not of import,” Castiel says stiffly, setting his knife down and picking up his cutting board. He transfers the broccoli to the steaming pot on the stove and covers them, using the stove timer so he won’t forget about them. Jimmy hums, tossing the last piece of his tangerine into his mouth and grinning around it.

“Come on, Cas,” Jimmy says. “You should tell your boy what you do.” Jimmy glances at Dean. “It’s nothin’ bad.” Dean looks at Cas, who is already looking at him. “He’s a CFO for the company.” Cas sighs, quiet and annoyed. Dean frowns. Why doesn’t Cas want him to know that? Is there something wrong with being the CFO? He doesn’t even know what that stands for. Finance, maybe? He thinks so. It sounds familiar. Chief finance officer. Something like that.

And what is the family company, anyways? What to do they do? Sell stuff? Trade? Manage... something? Dean is confused. He knows so little about Cas, about the Novak's. He looks at Cas again, who is pointedly staring down at the vegetables he’s chopping. Maybe he should change the subject if Cas hates talking about his job so much. But what can he talk about? Ah. Right. Food.

“What are you making, Cas?” he asks, ignoring the slight nervousness at the beginning of his sentence. Cas’ shoulder slump down a little with relief.

“Steak with vegetables. Baked potatoes, maybe?” Cas answers, glancing at them. They all nod. Dean and Cas usually eat simple dishes, and half of them don't even have meat. Steak is always a nice treat. Cas takes out some potatoes and hands them to Jimmy to wash. Jimmy does so reluctantly, dragging his feet all the way to the sink.

Anna pads into the kitchen with her red-headed omega and Balthazar and Adam. Michael immediately pulls Adam into his lap, but doesn’t do much else. Balthazar leans against the counter close to Dean but he doesn’t try to touch him and he doesn’t even look at him; it’s still a little uncomfortable.

“What’s for dinner?” Raphael asks as she also walks into the room with her omega and beta.

“Steak,” Michael answers, watching Raphael with a critical gaze. Raphael plops down on one of the stools and her omega and beta move to kneel behind her chair. Dean frowns at them, knowing that the floor is a bitch to kneel on. He kneels on the floor when he puts dishes in the bottom cupboards, sometimes when he’s cleaning too. It’s a pain.

He has no right to say anything though.

* * *

They all stay well into the evening, the last to leave are Michael and Anna and their omega’s. Michael leaves first, shaking Dean’s hand with a smile even as Dean tries not to let his shock show. An alpha never usually shakes the hand of an omega, it’s a nice surprise. Michael seems to like him, but not in the same way he likes Adam. That’s good. He seems like a decent alpha. Adam probably deserves someone who will be kind to him. He’s a good omega.

Anna leaves about ten minutes later, promising to come back next week so Charlie - her red-headed omega - and Dean can talk about their many shared interests more. Dean’s excited about it, having made another new friend in the short evening. Charlie seems just as excited, giving him a Vulcan salute as she leaves after Anna. Dean shuts the door behind them and leans against it.

Cas crowds into his space, locking the door and staring at Dean with dark, unreadable eyes. Dean thinks back to his rude behavior towards Raphael. “Are you going to punish me?” he asks, trying not to seem nervous. Cas doesn’t say anything, but he presses their bodies closer together. Dean feels warm between the door and Cas’ body and bites his bottom lip. He’s so nervous. He wonders if Cas can smell it.

“Should I?” Cas finally says, nudging his nose against Dean’s. Dean swallows, and averts his gaze, staring down at Cas’ chest. His hands clench into fists. Cas huffs, quiet, almost inaudible, and shakes his head. “No, Dean. Although that wasn’t the best way to handle Raphael.”

“’m’sorry,” he says, voice sounding weak. Cas isn’t going to punish him? Why? He disrespected an alpha, an alpha that is Cas’ sister. He should be punished. “You should punish me.”

“Okay,” Cas murmurs. What? That was easy, especially considering Cas just said he wasn’t going to punish him. Dean lifts his eyes, frowning slightly at Cas. Cas grins at him, and steps back a few feet. “How should I punish you?” Dean clenches his jaw and stares at him, trying to read his expression and failing. It’s not up to Dean how he gets punished, it’s supposed to be up to Cas. He’s supposed to tell Dean what his punishment is. “Hmm?” Cas raises an eyebrow, shuffling over to the kitchen.

Dean follows him, confused. The kitchen is mostly clean, dishes put in the dishwasher and pots already washed and drying; they can be put away tomorrow. Cas grabs a tall glass and fills it with water, leaning against the counter and sipping from it as he waits for Dean to answer. What can he say? Dean doesn’t want to be punished, but he deserves to be. He was rude to Cas’ sister after all, that’s grounds for a harsh punishment. A spanking? No, something worse.

“No answer, sweet boy?” Cas drawls, setting his now empty glass in the sink. “That’s alright. I already know how I’m going to punish you.”

“Yeah?” Dean whispers, throat tight.

Cas nods, smirking softly. “I’m going to punish you by not punishing you,” he says, stepping into Dean’s space. He sighs softly and rests his forehead against Dean’s, wrapping his arms around him too. “I don’t think you need to be punished, Dean. While I didn’t agree with how you went about it, I’m very glad you talked back to Raphael. She’s much too full of herself, gets it from our mother.”

Dean frowns deeply and stares at Cas’ chest. “It’s been a long day, Dean,” Cas says after a few minutes, leaning back. Dean glances at his face and sees that yeah, Cas looks tired.

“Let’s go to bed,” Dean says before Cas can. He offers his alpha a smile he doesn’t feel, and gets one in return. Cas pulls away and turns the kitchen light off, double checking the doors as he passes them, heading for the stairs. Dean trails behind him, being purposefully slow. Cas shuffles into their bedroom and Dean slips into his safe room, shutting the door with a loud click.

“Dean?” Cas immediately says, confused. “Dean?” he says again, closer this time. Dean leans against the door and holds his breath, waiting for Cas to punch in the code and push the door open. He doesn’t. Dean can feel his hesitation, his worry. “I-” Cas pats the door lightly with his hand. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And then he walks away.

Dean sinks down to the floor, disappointed. He stares across the room at the window. Cas didn’t try to force his way in or make him talk, he just accepted that Dean wasn’t going to be spending the night with him. Dean doesn’t want to spend the night alone, he wants to sleep curled up in Cas’ arms, tucked tight against his chest. He wants to inhale his unique, soothing scent and hear his soft snores; he wants to be safe.

But Dean needs his punishment. He needs to be denied something, hurt or pushed away. Keeping himself alone in his safe room is an okay punishment. Not what he wants, but it’s better than nothing. It’s better than spending the night in Cas’ arms like he deserves to be there right now; he doesn’t.

Dean closes his blurry gaze and tucks his face between his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs. Sleeping on the floor is also a good addition to the pathetic punishment. He’ll wake up sore, be reminded of the reason for the soreness. That will be okay. It’s not like he’s weak. He can take it. He can take a lot of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't how i wanted to introduce these characters originally but it just happened this way. i hope it's okay. thank you all so much! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thank you for all the comments last chapter! i'm sorry for the lack of updates. please enjoy.

Dean wakes up curled up on the floor in the corner by his door. It’s uncomfortable, half his body feels numb, and he doesn’t want to move. He does so reluctantly anyways, shifting his position and lying down spread out on the floor. He moans softly to himself, his body thrumming with pins and needles as blood starts circulating properly again.

His shoulders are sore, and his lower back is throbbing. Dean curls towards the window, pressing his back against the door. The floor is cold, and he wants to cuddle a blanket or Cas. God, he wants to cuddle up in bed with Cas and never move. Dean sighs, feeling the urge to pee, and crawls up to his knees, then stands up slowly.  He shakes his legs out, leaning against the door for support.

Dean opens the door and freezes.

Cas... Cas is sitting against the wall, close to their open bedroom door. He’s relaxed, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He’s sipping from a mug while reading a paperback book, relaxed and calm. He looks up as Dean opens the door, and sweeps his eyes over Dean’s haggard body. “Good morning, Dean,” he says tenderly, lifting his eyes to Dean’s face.

“Wh-what are-” Dean cuts himself off. He looks down at his feet and swallows thickly. Cas closes his book and sets his mug down, fiddling with the edges of the pages. Dean glances at him slowly, chewing on the inner corner of his lips. Cas sighs softly, eyes down, and it sounds annoyed, frustrated to Dean’s ears. He can’t help but shuffle backward, worried he’s done something terrible to upset him now.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says, voice lower than usual. Dean detects sadness, worry, hesitation and exasperation in his tone. Dean doesn’t understand why he’s apologizing. Cas stands up slowly, bending over to pick his mug up, then straightening fully. He steps closer to Dean, which makes him step backward. Cas walks into their bedroom, and after a moment, Dean pads in after him.

Cas sits on the bed, his mug on the nightstand beside his book. His hands are intertwined in his lap and he’s looking down again, at his feet. “Come sit with me, please,” he says, glancing at Dean from beneath his eyelashes. Dean carefully walks over to him, crawling onto the bed and sitting with his legs crossed. Cas turns towards him, one leg bent on the bed, the other dangling off the side. Cas runs his hands through his hair, looking tired. “How did you sleep?” he asks, dropping his hands and looking at Dean in the eye.

Dean drops his gaze and shrugs. “Fine,” he replies. “You?”

“Terribly,” Cas says, smiling slightly when Dean looks at him. “I didn’t have you to keep me company.” Dean tenses his shoulders, turning his head towards the windows. Cas wanted to sleep with him last night? Does that mean actual sleeping or is he trying to be subtle and say he wanted to do something sexual with him last night? Dean’s not sure, but he’s not about to ask. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

Cas swallows audibly. “If you had smelled differently last night, I wouldn’t have even given the thought of you sleeping away from me another second. But you smelled like... you smelled sad, Dean. Like you were in pain, and-” Cas cuts himself off. Dean looks back over at him and holds his breath when their gazes clash. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

“Wanted you to punish me,” Dean says unthinkingly. He freezes, eyes widening in time with Cas’, and feels his cheeks warm up, feels horrified. “I-”

“You were- You-” Cas lets out a hard breath. “You wanted me to punish you that badly?” he says quietly, voice cautiously blank. It sounds dumb, Dean realizes. Really, really dumb. What kind of reasoning is that? He wishes he’d realized he had smelled so weird last night, then he could have... could have, what? Thought of something else? It wouldn’t have done much to change his scent, not when he couldn’t have stopped thinking about his idiotic behavior with Raphael.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas whispers, shifting forward and grasping Dean’s hands in his own. “I’m so sorry,” he sounds pained. “I didn’t realize you needed- I didn’t- I’m sorry, sweet boy.” Cas tugs him forward, and Dean goes willingly, letting himself be pulled into Cas’ arms and held tightly against his chest. “Do you need me to-”

“No,” Dean interrupts. He feels guilty for cutting Cas off, but he doesn’t need him to do anything anymore, doesn’t need to be punished anymore. He already took care of that himself last night. His shoulders and back ache, a small reminder. Cas pulls him all the way into his lap, holding Dean tightly and burying his face in his shoulder. “Need to pee.”

Cas immediately releases him. “Of course,” he says. Dean shifts off the bed slowly, and walks into the bathroom, kicking the door shut. He pisses quickly, then washes his hands. Washes his face and brushes his teeth. Spends five minutes staring at himself in the mirror. Spends ten minutes sitting on the floor in front of the cabinets. Then he stands up and washes his hands again, drying them with a hand towel. He sighs to himself, feeling lost and thoughtless, and steps out of the bathroom.

Cas is still sitting on the bed, waiting for him. Dean pauses because he figured Cas would have just left after all that time. Cas looks at him, stops fiddling with his hands, and smiles hesitantly. “It’s after ten. Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat.” Dean’s perfectly capable of making his own breakfast, he usually does, but it’s always extra special when Cas has the time to make him something. It always makes him feel so fuzzy and nice, cared for. He’s not sure if he really deserves a nice breakfast right now, but he wants one.

“Oatmeal?” he says, flushing because he sounds so hopeful. Cas grins widely, his gummy smile making Dean’s chest feel lighter.

“Of course!” Cas slides off the bed, taking his mug as he walks towards the door. “Come on, honey.” Dean obediently follows after him. They head into the kitchen, and Cas directs Dean to the island to sit while he grabs a pot and the bag of oats. Dean leans his elbows on the counter and cups his face in his palms, watching as Cas shuffles around and makes him some creamy oatmeal.

He startles a little when Cas sets a bowl of oatmeal and a spoon in front of him. Cas sits down beside him, a soft little smile on his face. Dean picks up his spoon and pokes the steaming oatmeal, waiting for it to cool down. “May I... feed you?” Cas asks slowly. Last time Cas fed him had been so sweet, Dean hesitates for a moment. Then he nods.

Cas tugs him into his lap, just holding him in his arms for a moment. Then he reaches for the oatmeal, scoops some up in the spoon, blows on it lightly to cool it down and directs it towards Dean’s mouth. Dean tests the temperature, finding it a little too warm but manageable, and eats the spoonful. It’s delicious, with a touch of cinnamon flavor, too. Dean leans into Cas, content to eat the spoonfuls that keep coming. It’s relaxing, makes him feel spoiled, and he loves it; he’s not sure he deserves it, though. Cas kisses his hair, his free hand rubbing against his side. He smells nice, like a warm and happy alpha, and it makes Dean feel just as good as Cas’ scent is.

Cas sets the spoon in the bowl after giving Dean the last bite, and wraps both arms tightly around him, rocking slightly. He nudges his face into Dean’s neck, pressing light kisses to the skin and humming softly. Dean feels sleepy, loved, and shuffles until his legs are on either side of Cas’ thighs. He lets out a quiet breath and rests his head on Cas’ shoulder, closing his eyes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've felt really bad about not updating. i'm so grateful for all of your comments and love. it's made me feel more confident in my writing for sure. everything you guys have said has meant so much to me. thank you so much. i love you guys. <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! thanks for all the comments on the previous chapter! <3

“Dean?”

Dean jerks his head up, surprised and embarrassed, feeling like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Cas stands in the doorway, dressed in a plain black suit, white dress shirt, and purple tie. He looks surprised to see Dean sitting behind his desk before the open box of tags.

“What are you doing in here?” Cas asks, slowly walking closer to the desk. He doesn’t sound angry, but then again, he could be concealing his anger. Dean should have never walked into his office without permission, it was dumb. He looks down at the tags in front of himself and bites his inner cheek, bouncing his leg. Cas sits down opposite him, in one of the two chairs before his desk.

Dean wishes he never stayed long enough to get caught by Cas, wishes he didn’t even come down into his office. He doesn’t think he’s been sitting here for long, it had been just after one when he came down, but it seems he has been if Cas’ home. He’s so stupid, irresponsible.

Cas is probably tired, exhausted from a full day of work. He won’t want to play with Dean. He probably wants to relax, release some tension from a stressful day at work by sitting on the couch and watching TV. He’s been stressed all week, Dean even heard him angrily speaking with someone just the other day on the phone.

“Please speak to me, Dean,” Cas says. Dean blinks and finds Cas is now leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, gazing at Dean with open and warm eyes. His stomach flips nervously, and he looks down at the tags, eyes lingering on one gold tag. Dean breathes in slowly and holds his breath. “Would you like to play?”

“I-” Dean lets out the breath he was holding, and swallows thickly. He nods, slowly, because he’s ashamed and can’t even voice what he wants. Cas doesn’t say anything for a moment, then he stands up and walks around the desk. He steps up beside Dean and leans against the desk, the side of his left thigh pressing into Dean’s arm.

“Have you decided on a tag?” Cas asks. Dean squeezes his hand into a tight fist. Is that... is that excitement Dean hears in his voice? Is he excited to play with Dean? He sits up straighter and dares to raises his head, his eyes, to take in Cas’ expression. There’s a smile playing on the corners of his lips, and his eyes are darker, somehow more intense than usual.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, voice soft but clear.

Cas pushes off the desk and opens a drawer, pulling out a set of keys and finding the right one on the loop. He hands it to Dean and nods towards the door. “Take your tag and go kneel in the playroom, then,” he says. “I’ll join you in five minutes.” Dean scrambles to his feet, toes curling into the floor, and stares at Cas with wide eyes. “Now.”

Dean glances down at the box, picks up his tag and takes the keys from Cas. He steps around him, heading for the door. Cas grabs his wrist as he passes, pulling him in closer and pressing a deep, heated kiss to his lips with a soft noise of contentment. Dean feels his knees weaken from the intensity and possessiveness buried in the kiss. Cas pulls back and grins. “Go on,” he murmurs, breath hot on Dean’s lips.

He nods, licking his lips, and continues on his way. Dean’s hands tremble as he unlocks the playroom door, and pushes it open, flicking the light on. It’s the same as he remembers it, welcoming and warm. He leaves the door open a crack after he steps inside, then heads over to the dresser to set the keys down. He debates on stripping but Cas never ordered him to, so he doesn’t. He kneels a foot and a half away from the end of the bed.

Dean’s hands are still shaking, and his stomach is flipping. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe slowly, deeply. The tag feels like a dreadful weight in his right fist, and he debates on running upstairs to his safe room. He feels nervous and stupid and wrong; and at the same time, he feels good and excited and content.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, voice low and rumbling. Dean’s eyes snap open and he sits up straighter, surprised to see Cas sitting in front of him. He hadn’t even heard him shut the door, or walk over to the bed, let alone come in. Cas looks a little more refreshed and bright. His cheeks are pinker, and his hair is a little more tamed. He took off his blazer and loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar and rolled his cuffs up to his elbows. He looks relaxed, casual, and delectable.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but remembers himself and snaps his jaw shut. His cheeks flush and he ducks his head, digging his nails into his palms. Dumb, dumb, dumb. “It’s alright, sweet boy,” Cas says, leaning forward and sliding two fingers under Dean’s chin. Dean lifts his head, his cheeks warmer than usual, and catches sight of Cas’ indulgent, casual expression. He relaxes as Cas moves his fingers into his hair, running through the soft strands; he feels a lot more grounded with Castiel touching him. The anxiety ebbs, and the shaking in his hands dissipates. “What tag did you choose?”

The paw-shaped tag in his palm feels like molten lava.

He holds it up for Cas to take. Cas picks it up, the fingers of his left hand brushing teasingly against Dean’s palm. Dean clenches his jaw tight as he watches Cas study the tag, taking in the word. Cas is quiet for several long minutes, then he pulls his hand from Dean’s hair and sits up straighter. Oh, fuck. Does this mean Cas hates it? That he doesn’t want to do this particular tag, was hoping Dean chose a different one?

“I- I'm sorry,” Dean whispers, unable to stop himself. Cas glances at him, confused and oh- Is that anger? Oh, fuck, is he angry? Dean feels his stomach turn and his throat tighten and scrambles backward, sliding on the gel floor. “I can pick something else. Or- or nothing. We don’t have to- to do anything- I can-”

“Dean.” He freezes mid-word.

Cas stands up and advances on him, coming to stand directly in front of him. He kneels down and reaches for Dean even as he flinches, tugging him closer until he can freely wrap his hands loosely around his neck. Cas makes him tilt his head back, thumbs tucked under Dean’s jaw. He moves his hands away and Dean hears the tiniest of clinks as the gold tag touches the ring on his collar. One hand cups his right cheek and another slides into his hair, massaging his scalp and sending a small shiver down his spine.

“I like the tag, Dean,” Cas says softly. “I was just thinking of all the things we could do.” Dean blinks a few times, lips turning into an ‘o’ shape. “Undress for me, gorgeous,” Cas says, pulling his hands away and standing. Dean watches as Cas returns to his spot on the bed. Then Dean moves to sit up on his knees. He stands up and tugs his t-shirt off, folding it neatly and setting it on the dresser. He follows it with his lounge pants, folding and placing them on the dresser as well.

He’s left in a pair of tight, lace green panties, and hesitates on taking them off. Cas makes a noise from the bed, making Dean look over at him. “Leave them,” he says, voice strained and eyes trained on his crotch. Dean wiggles his hips a little and smiles inwardly. He pads back over to Cas and drops down to kneel between his spread feet, looking up at him through his lashes. “Let me see those pretty appendages, sweet boy.”

It takes him a couple seconds to realize what Cas wants.

Dean shuts his eyes and concentrates, clenching his hands into fists. It’s not painful but it’s difficult to change, especially since he’s not done it in a while. Gradually, he feels his human ears start to disappear, quickly being replaced by two furry triangles on the top of his head. That’s followed by a growth at the base of his spine, just above his ass crack. He flicks the new appendages around for a second, then opens his eyes to look up at Cas.

Cas looks awed, his eyes locked on Dean’s ears. He flicks his ears around, swiveling them to the sides, back and front, over and over. He flattens them on instinct when Cas reaches a hand out, then perks them back up and leans forward. Cas induces a feeling of anxiety in him one moment, and safety the next. It’s confusing but he’s not going to question it, now at least. His hearing has increased, and so have his other senses. His tail feels a little awkward, but as he curls it in the air and swishes it around, it begins to feel familiar again. He curls it around his hip and relaxes his back.

Dean feels a rumbling in his chest as Cas’ long fingers delicately stroke his ears. He can’t hide the moan that bubbles forth from his parted lips and the shiver that races down his spine. It feels amazing and has him relaxing in seconds. “My sweet little kitty,” Cas says, voice heated and rich, full of wonder and want. Dean squirms and pushes his head into Cas’ hands, eyes fluttering shut. “Look at you,” he murmurs.

Dean doesn’t want anything extravagant tonight. He just wants Cas’ smooth, large hands on him. Wants to be turned into a puddle of pleasure underneath them. That’s all. Is that too much to ask for? Dean hopes not.

Cas pulls his hands away and stands up, walking around to the side of the bed and crawling on top of the comforter. He rearranges the pillows until he’s satisfied and comfortable and then pats his thighs. “Come sit in my lap, kitten.” Dean braces his hands on the bed and pulls himself up, crawling over to Cas. He goes around Cas’ outstretched legs and lets Cas guides him how he wants him in his lap. It’s not really how Dean expected. Dean thought that maybe he’d be guided to lay over Cas’ knees, leave his backside vulnerable and his head within reach. Instead, Cas pulls him to sit curled up in his lap, his head tucked into his alpha’s neck.

Cas seems pleased with the position and wraps one arm around Dean’s knees, palm petting over the side of his thigh and calf. His other arm moves across Dean’s back, then his hand presses into Dean’s spine. He slowly moves down until he’s just inches away from Dean’s tail. Dean twitches the appendage, squirming a little in Cas’ arms, and then nuzzles against the prickly skin underneath his jaw.

“I needed this,” Cas admits softly, hesitantly. Dean makes a soft noise in response, twitching his tail and curling it around Cas’ wrist. Cats don’t do that, they don’t do a lot of things Dean’s doing. “Just you,” he continues. He moves, and suddenly Dean’s lying on his back with his legs spread wide, sideways on the bed, gazing up at Cas. He whines softly, his blood rushing in his ears, toes curling.

Cas sits back, gazing down at him with a devious smile and a tilted head. “My gorgeous boy,” he whispers, sliding his hands up Dean’s chest, grazing his nipples, and then back down. He glides those hot hands down over Dean’s thighs and shins, nails dragging across his flesh as he comes back up to his hips. Dean arches his back and groans lowly, digging the back of his head into the sheets. He reaches out and grips Cas by his tie.

Cas grabs his wrists, pinning them above his head. Dean pouts and squirms on the sheets, trying to escape and grab Cas again. It elicits a smile from Cas. His alpha leans down, his nose brushing Dean’s bottom lip, over the top of his chin and then the underside. He presses his lips to Dean’s neck, soft and damp kisses covering the length of his throat. Cas presses his crotch against Dean’s, moving his hips in a few slow circles.

Cas moves his lips back up his throat, pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips. He sucks on the bottom one, nips at both until they’re sore, laves at his tongue. He rolls and grinds his large cock against Dean’s, teasing them both. Then he kisses up Dean’s face, moving up his body, shifting one leg to the outside of Dean’s left hip. Cas presses his left thigh into Dean’s cock, moving it in slow circles as he kisses up his face. He kisses his hair, and then he... he licks at Dean’s ear. Dean bristles, ears twitching wildly before flattening against his skull, cheeks flushing.

“Come on, kitty,” Cas says, voice silky smooth and heavy with desire. “Let me play with your pretty ears.” Dean whines quietly, tail tucked down between his ass cheeks, the end twitching nervously. He slowly flicks his ears back up, only to flatten them again when Cas sucks one into his mouth. “ _Kitten_.” A warning. Dean lifts his ears again, and this time, Cas bites the tip of the left one. It’s not hard but it makes Dean whimper and wiggle. It sends tingles down to his cock and makes it twitch where it’s trapped against Cas’ firm thigh.

Cas sucks lightly on the ear, which just adds to Dean’s pleasure. He feels something slimy between his ass cheeks and groans, bucking his hips up. It just hurts him because Cas doesn’t move away even an inch. Cas pulls away from his ear and kisses down his face, his neck, and his chest. “Gorgeous little kitty,” Castiel croons at him, breathing hotly on his left nipple. “Purring so sweetly for me, aren’t you, kitten?” Cas wraps his lips around his nipple, sucking gently on the bud. He makes sure to pay equal attention to his other nipple, laving and sucking and biting at them until he’s satisfied and Dean’s pleasantly sore.

Dean whines needily and rolls his hips, rutting up against Cas. His alpha chuckles, dark and deep in his chest, the noise vibrating through Dean’s body and making him shiver. Cas pulls away from him, his hands sliding to Dean’s hips as he moves. He grasps the edges of his panties and pulls them down Dean’s legs, tossing them over the side of the bed. Dean licks his lips, feeling unnecessarily shy as Cas gazes down at him with wonder and lust.

“So pretty,” Cas says. “On your stomach, sweet kitty.” Dean huffs quietly as he shifts onto his stomach. He can’t see Cas now, not very well anyway. Cas drapes himself over his back, tucking his face in Dean’s neck and sucking a mark on his skin with a low groan. He grinds his cock against his slick-wet ass, no doubt staining his pants as he does.

Cas braces himself on his left forearm, reaching his other hand down between their bodies and undoing his pants. It takes him a little longer than usual with one hand, but he eventually shoves his pants and underwear to his knees. Cas rubs his hand against Dean’s slick thighs, and then Dean feels the head of his cock slide up against his ass cheeks. He bristles, flicking his tail to the side and flattening his ears, pressing his face into the sheets.

Cas nudges Dean’s thighs together, and moves his knees on either side of them, forcing him to keep his legs pressed tightly against each other. He nudges his cock into the small space between Dean’s thighs and pushes in between them, moaning obscenely in Dean’s ear as he presses his hips to Dean’s ass. “ _Fuck._ Spread your legs a touch- Yes, good,” Cas whispers in his ear, breathing heavily now. “Can you make me come, pretty?”

Dean feels the softness of Cas’ pants against his thighs, his shirt pressing into his back. He’s naked, and Cas is still mostly clothed, and he feels vulnerable. Dean tilts his head back, locking eyes with Cas over his shoulder. He flicks his ears around and wraps his tail around Cas’ hip. He shoots him a desperate little look and rolls his hips back, urging Cas to move.

Cas groans softly and pulls his hips back, his cock sliding delightfully between Dean’s thighs. He adjusts his angle a little and slides back between them. The head of his cock nudges against Dean’s balls, pushing them forward with each thrust. Dean squeezes his thighs tighter, shivering as Cas puts more of his weight on Dean’s back and fucks between his thighs harder.

Dean feels more slick leak out of his hole, oozing down to make the slide of Cas’ cock easier. He moans, rocking his hips into the sheets, grinding his cock down on them. Cas mouths at the nape of his neck as he fucks him, breathing hard. It takes forever for him to orgasm.

When he does, his hot come coats the insides and backs of Dean’s thighs, his balls, and his ass. Cas groans from behind him, hips twitching every few seconds. “Thank you,” Cas mumbles, pulling away. He flips Dean onto his back with ease, and spreads his legs wide, ducking his head down. He licks up the mess of come and slick from Dean’s lower half, then swallows his cock down, humming in the back of his throat.

Dean arches his back and cries out, toes curling and heels digging into the sheets. “A-alpha,” he gasps, closing his eyes and fisting the sheets. Heat pools rapidly in Dean’s belly, and his balls draw up as he comes in Cas’ mouth seconds later. Cas swallows every drop of his come before popping off of his cock with a sweet grin. “Fuck, Cas…”

“Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you at least somewhat enjoyed that. thank you all so much! <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thank you for all the comments last chapter :)

Dean is sitting with his back against the sofa, his legs propped up in Cas’ lap. Cas has his laptop perched on Dean’s legs, and he’s typing away, replying to emails and writing up documents, and other stuff Dean doesn’t know.

He glances down at his own laptop and hesitantly brings up a Google advanced search window. With slow, shaking fingers, he types on the keyboard, the letters popping up immediately in the search bar. He stares at the two words for a moment, then clicks enter, eyes falling shut as he does.

He doesn’t want to look. He can’t do this. Not yet. He’s not ready yet.

Except…

There’s no crippling anxiety, or turning and twisting in his stomach, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to hurl or start crying. Dean slowly opens his eyes, and looks at the laptop screen, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. His search of ‘Sam Winchester’ hasn’t brought him much, but there’s a link to a Facebook, Instagram, Twitter page.

He opens each link in a new tab, and hesitantly ventures into the Facebook page first. It’s mostly set to private, but there’s a profile picture of a tall, lanky boy with floppy dark brown hair and piercing blue-green puppy dog eyes and a huge, dimpled grin, his arms slung over the shoulders of two boys about the same age as him. There’s no doubt in Dean’s mind that this boy is his little brother. Even as young as he and Sam were when they were seperated, he’d never forget the barely aged face of his brother.

Dean clicks on the cover photo next, immediately recognizing the beauty of the interior of the black Impala. They’re driving, with the windows down, and at a high speed. His eyes slide over to the middle-aged man sitting behind the wheel, oblivious to the deviously smirking teenager snapping a photo. Dean remembers him clearly.

This is his dad. John Winchester in all his glory. He’s much older than Dean remembers, with more wrinkles and lines on his face, and greyer hair. His clothes are decent and thickly layered, and everything about him screams alpha. Dean rubs his hands over his face, inhaling deeply and slowly, trying to remain calm. This is the man that sold him to Haven for twenty-five grand. This is the man that abandoned his son.

Dean wants to feel hatred building up inside of him, he wants to feel anger and anguish, he wants to be horrified; but he doesn’t feel anything. He feels emptier the longer he stares at the man that helped create him; his biological father. Unable to stare at him any longer, Dean exits out of the window, and clicks on the Instagram tab.

There’s a dark Rottweiler resting in the back of a truck as the profile photo, and a link to a twitter page in the description portion. There’s only a handful of photos on the page. Two of Sam, one of the Impala in all her glory, one candid of an unfamiliar older man in a trucker cap sitting at a bar with a brunette woman behind the counter with a blonde teenage girl. The last photo Dean sees is also the first photo ever posted on the account.

It’s a picture of an old photograph, worn and weathered, of a beautiful blonde woman and a young toddler that Dean realizes is himself. He clicks on the image, and immediately notices the caption. _‘Today is November 2, the day my mom and older brother were taken from us by a house fire. I hope they’re in a better place now. I hope they’re happy. I miss them.’_ Dean stares at the words for several long minutes, unsure how to completely comprehend them.

John lied to Sammy. John told Sammy that Dean was dead.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s crying and making noises until Cas is suddenly sitting beside him and holding him, petting his hair gently and making a soft, soothing noise from deep in his chest. Dean curls into his body, tucking his face in his neck, and lets out loud and ugly sobs. Cas doesn’t push him to calm down, or make him try to speak, he just holds him and lets him cry. Dean clings to him tightly, hands trembling where they’re fisting his shirt.

“He thinks I’m dead,” Dean mumbles softly into Cas’ collar. Castiel makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn’t push him, doesn’t ask him to clarify. He presses a few kisses to the side of Dean’s head and gently nudges him back, wiping his tears and snot away with a handkerchief from his pocket. “He thinks I’m dead, alpha. I’m not dead. I’m right here and he has no idea.” Another sob rips itself from his throat. “I’m not dead.”

“I know you’re not, my gorgeous boy,” Cas finally says, voice low and tender. “And he will too, whenever you’re ready to tell him.” Cas doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’s trying to soothe him, to comfort him, and it means everything to Dean. He shifts until he’s straddling his lap and smashes his lips on Cas’, cupping his cheeks in his hands and holding his head still.

At first, Castiel tenses and doesn’t respond to the kiss, then he relaxes and wraps his arms around him, and kisses him back. He’s gentle and slow and teasing, and eventually, Dean melts against him and lets himself forget for a moment.

“What do I do?” Dean whispers once they break apart. He settles his butt in Cas’ lap, staring down at his reddened lips. Cas slides his hands down to his hips, and sighs softly.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” he says truthfully. Another tear slips down Dean’s cheek, only to be brushed away by a thumb. “Perhaps you can reach out to him.” Dean nudges his face into Cas’ neck and breathes in his scent, slumping against him.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Dean whispers uncertainly, gripping Cas’ shirt tightly. That’s the worst thought. That his brother hates him, doesn’t like how he grew up or the person he became.

Cas smacks him sharply on his left ass cheek. Dean jumps and immediately pulls back with a frown, glaring down at Cas. “You are the most likeable young man I’ve ever met,” Cas says firmly, cutting off whatever protest Dean was going to snap out. “I’m not sure who we’re talking about, but I think it’s your younger brother.” Dean doesn’t deny it, so Cas continues. “He will be the happiest he’s ever been to see you, to know that you’re still alive and well, to know that he has a sibling and he’s not alone.”

“Cas,” Dean whines, bottom lip trembling. “He has a whole life away from me. He probably mourned my death and- and forgot about me!”

“Dean,” Cas says sharply. “I very much doubt he did. If I were in his position, told that my older brother had passed away in a fire with our mother, I would be ecstatic to see it’s not true. I would fantasize of the man he would have become, of how good of a brother he would have been, how nice it would have been if he were there. How amazing it would be if he somehow came back.”

“I wish I was there for him,” Dean mumbles, eyes watering again as he thinks of Sammy missing him.

“I know, sweet boy,” Cas replies, voice soothing and soft. “And whenever you’re ready, you can be there for him.” Dean nods and tucks his face in Cas’ neck again, sniffling wetly against his skin and shirt collar. Cas pets the back of his head and rubs his other hand along his spine. Dean feels tired and weak in his arms, so he closes his eyes and lets Cas hold him.

* * *

It takes Dean three days of staring at his little brother’s Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to work up the nerve to send him a message. At Cas’ insisting, he makes a facebook account and uploads a profile image of himself. It’s a picture Cas took a while ago, of Dean curled up in their bed asleep, wearing only the dress shirt that Cas wore to work the previous day. It’s a little inappropriate but Dean crops it so it only shows him from the hips up. He looks peaceful, content; he likes it.

For the cover picture, he puts an image he sneakily took of Cas stretched out on their sofa in his work suit, blazer gone and shirt now wrinkled with his tie loosened, asleep and snoring softly, lips parted and face relaxed. He looks peaceful and content too, and Dean very much likes how sexy he looks in the picture. He types in as little information into the boxes as he can, and then hesitantly hits the friend request button on Sam’s page.

And now, he waits.

It takes about half a day for Sam to deny his request and send him a somewhat angry message. _‘Who the hell are you and why are you pretending to be my brother??’_ is what Dean gets. Dean nibbles on his bottom lip nervously and carries his laptop down to Cas’ office, walking in without knocking and plopping down in his lap, showing him the screen.

Cas studies it for a moment, then types a short message into the box at the bottom and lets Dean see it. _‘I am your brother. Don’t tell John I’m messaging you. I can explain everything. Here’s my number. ###’_ Cas presses a kiss to the side of his head and says, “And now we wait for him to call.” Dean nods, shaking his legs up and down.

Sam will probably take a few hours to decide if he should call, and that will give Dean plenty of time to figure out how to start a conversation with him, to explain the things he knows. Instead, to both Dean and Cas’ surprise, the home phone on Cas’ desk starts ringing just minutes after the message is sent.

Cas clears his throat and answers the phone. “Hello?” he says, pausing for a moment to let the person on the other end speak. “No, this is not him, but he’s right here. I’ll put him on.” Cas holds the phone away from both of them for a moment and pecks Dean on the lips. “It’ll be okay, honey, just take a deep breath.” Dean nods, taking the phone from him, covering the speaker as he breathes in and out a few times.

“Hello?” he says, voice shaky and anxious.

There’s a pause on the other end, then a young but strong and firm voice says, “Hello? Is this… Is this Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he says, licking his lips. “Sammy?”

“It’s Sam,” he replies with a slight huff. “So… why are you pretending to be my brother? What do you get out of this?”

“Listen,” Dean says, glancing at Cas. His alpha shoots him a reassuring smile and reaches out, squeezing Dean’s hand tightly. “John- Dad- He… After the fire, and mom’s… mom’s death, he sold me to a place called Haven for twenty-five grand. He, uh, needed the money to raise you and-”

“Send me a picture,” Sam interrupts. “With a paper that says today’s date and the word ‘Poughkeepsie.’”

“Poughkeepsie?” Dean repeats. “Can I have a paper and pen?” Cas pulls a blank sheet of paper out of a drawer and hands him a pen from the top of the desk. He writes down today’s date and the word, and makes Cas take a picture of him with his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text it to you.” Sam tells him.

Dean sends the message and waits, chewing his lip as he hears a faint buzz from the other side of the call. Sam fiddles around on the other side for a few minutes, typing loudly on a keyboard and clicking with a mouse. “Oh,” Sam suddenly whispers, sounding a mix of horrified and surprised.

“What?” Dean asks, sitting up straighter. Sam is silent on the other end, still typing and clicking.

“... Dean?” comes the whisper from the other end. “Is that… is that really you?”

“Yeah, Sammy, it’s me,” Dean says, relieved.

“Where- where are you? Are you okay? What happened? We thought you were dead. Oh, god,” Sam says hastily, excited and happy, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears. “You’ve been gone so long, Dean. I don’t even- You’re- _Fuck_.”

Dean spends the next hour and a half retelling his story from as far back as he can remember. He leaves out the parts of the forced sexual acts and punishments, and all the rest of the bad stuff, but tells as much as he can; what he knows about their mom, what he remembers about their dad before the fire, being sold, being raised by Missouri, being trained into a good little omega. Sam buts in every few minutes to get clarifications, and while it’s annoying, it’s also kind of cute. Cas lets him relax in his lap the whole time, his hands wandering over Dean’s body, massaging him and soothing him.

Sam tells him about moving from place to place, never having a home, growing up with their dad, moving in a year ago with a man named Bobby Singer and a woman named Ellen Harvelle, and her daughter Jo. Sam is easy to talk to, and just hearing his voice, knowing that he’s okay, fills a hole inside of Dean’s chest and makes him happier than he’s ever been in his entire life. His little Sammy is all grown up, and he likes things that Dean barely knows about, he’s his own person now, but that’s okay, because at least he’s there and he knows Dean’s here now.

Dean glances at the clock on the wall, and winces, realizing he’s been on the phone with Sam for about two hours now. He wraps the conversation up, because he feels guilty for holding Cas up. He hangs up after Sam whispers a heartfelt little goodbye to him. Dean tucks his face in Cas’ neck and breathes deeply, instantly soothed by his scent.

“Thank you, alpha,” he whispers, sliding his arms around his chest and squeezing tightly. Cas doesn’t say anything, but he does nuzzle at the side of his head.

Cas clears his throat and nudges Dean back a little. A small, awkward little smile appears on his face, and he says sheepishly, “Would you mind moving? My legs are numb.” Dean winces and immediately stands up, an apology on the tip of his tongue. Cas tugs him back down and kisses him soundly, and he forgets about apologizing for a moment, melting into the kiss with a groan.

Dean drops to his knees gracefully, still kissing Cas, and massages his alpha’s firm thighs. Cas twitches a bit under his hands, and groans into his mouth, but doesn’t shove him or pull away. Dean slowly slides his hands closer to Cas’ crotch, hooking his fingers over his waistband, tugging him closer, forcing Cas to spread his thighs wider to accommodate his body.

“Dean,” Cas mumbles between kisses, finally reaching his hands down. He doesn’t try to stop him though, instead he helps him. He reaches for his belt, deftly undoing it, and follows it with his pants. Then, suddenly, he freezes and pulls back, face turning red. “I- I mean, you don’t- Can you-”

Dean holds back a smile, and nods, kissing him again. Cas pulls his hands away from his pants, sliding his fingers into Dean’s hair, and leans back to gaze down at him with widened eyes, cheeks still a little red. Dean finishes opening his pants and tugs it apart, pulling his boxers down and taking his already hard cock out. Cas’ reddened lips part and he tilts his head back, a groan rumbling out from deep in his chest at just the feel of Dean’s hand.

Dean doesn’t waste time, he ducks his head down and swallows Cas down to the base, moaning as his length slides over Dean’s tongue. He can taste him, skin and sweat and Cas’ unique scent. He never used to like giving blowjobs, could never get into them the way he was supposed to, but he loves giving them to Cas. He loves hearing every sigh and moan and groan and occasional whine he manages to pull from his throat. He loves to hear Cas enjoying himself. He works hard, and he's always so good to Dean. He deserves to relax and unwind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like this chapter. i never wanted to introduce sam like this, i wanted him to have a larger and more elaborate introduction but i don't know how to accomplish that. i'll definitely be coming back to edit this, and try to put in that better introduction. anyway, thank you everyone! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... this is xmas themed because it was supposed to be posted during said holiday but i never got around to it. i'm sorry for that but please enjoy <3
> 
> and i'm sorry if anyone seems off :)

A significant amount of time has passed since Dean left Haven, and before he knows it, it’s almost Christmas. Cas is absolutely ecstatic about it, murmuring about getting a tree and decorating it and making desserts and presents and all the joyous things related to the holiday. Dean’s never really celebrated Christmas. It wasn’t that big of a deal at Haven, sure there are fewer alphas there during the holiday season, but it was usually just another day to them.

Cas promises to show him all the good parts of it, and he does.

He takes Dean to a tree farm, where they select a snow-covered tree and chop it down themselves. They clean it off and pack it onto the top of the car, and head back home to decorate it. Dean helps, but Cas is the one that does most of the setting up for the tree. They decorate it with ornaments, and Cas helps him make a few paper ones, like snowflakes.

Cas has a nice little star to put on the top of the tree, but instead, they create a malformed, black-eyed cardboard angel. Cas lets him stick it on the top of the tree, and they both burst out laughing staring at it after. It’s ugly, seriously ugly, but they made it, and it’s unique and makes them happy, and that’s all that matters.

They try their hands at baking gingerbread men and other cookies, and cakes and pies, and mostly succeed. However, their baking adventure also involves a flour fight, a ten-minute make-out session on the messy floor, and a giggle-filled cleanup.

They hang lights on the outside of the house, even decorate a few trees in the front and back yards. Cas hangs mistletoes around the house, and randomly swoops in beside Dean to plant a long, drawn-out kiss on his lips with a devious grin. Everything succeeds in making Dean feel fuzzy and happy and warm and cared for… and loved.

He manages to talk to Sam every day via Facebook, just random little messages about things they’re doing. And he gets to call him again on Christmas Eve to wish him a Merry Christmas early. Just before their short call wraps up, Sam tells him that knowing Dean’s alive is the best Christmas present anyone could ever wish for. Dean ends up teary-eyed in Cas’ arms after that, but he doesn’t outright cry.

And now, it’s Christmas day, and they have presents packed up into Cas’ better car, a sleek matte black BMW, and are on their way to the Novak family mansion for a holiday party. They’ll be staying with them until the next day, and Dean’s nervous. He’s met some of the Novak’s, he knows what to expect, but he’s scared to meet the rest.

Cas’ mother sounds terrifying, but his father sounds pretty chill. Michael is decent, and so is Anna and Jimmy, but he doesn’t know Hannah or Samandriel or Gadreel. Balthazar kind of gave him the creeps, but he’s tolerable too. Raphael is another person he’s worried about seeing. He doesn’t like her, she’s rude and honestly, also scary.

The drive takes three hours, but it’s a comfortable and relaxing three hours filled with rock music. It’s almost noon by the time they pull up in front of the Novak mansion. It’s three stories, and beautiful, decorated in traditionally colored lights and a few green wreaths with red ribbons.

Cas parks between a white Rolls Royce and a classic dark blue Corvette. A couple employees run over to help them unload their luggage and the gifts, and they take everything inside to the much warmer home. It’s snowy and freezing outside, ice patches everywhere.

Dean takes off his new winter coat and boots and puts them neatly in the closet just to the right of the doorway. Cas does the same, wrapping him in his arms after and shivering. “Are you okay, honey?” he asks. Dean’s nervous, but he’s managing to hold himself together fairly well. He nods and pulls back to shoot Cas a reassuring smile. “Alright. Come on. I want to show you our bedroom before we meet with everyone.” He winks slyly.

Dean rolls his eyes and lets himself be pulled up a set of grand stairs to the third floor, and then down several hallways. He makes note of where they’re going so he can come back here alone if he ever needs to. Cas pauses in front of a set of double doors and glances at him for a brief second before turning the handles and pushing the doors open.

The room is huge and has its own balcony off to the side. There’s a four-poster king bed dominating most of the room, and a door is open to a huge bathroom with a large tub and a big shower stall and double sinks. There are two closet doors on either side of the bed, and Dean just knows they’re walk-ins. There’s a sitting area and a TV, and there’s even a big fireplace. It’s beautiful.

Dean immediately jumps on the bed with a giggle, glancing over at Cas as he closes the doors before coming over to join him. He jumps on right beside him with a huff and tugs Dean to lie on top of his chest. Dean wiggles his legs between Cas’ and slides his arms under his body, resting his head on Cas’ chest, his hair brushing against his chin.

“This is nice,” he says happily. Cas hums softly in response, arms wrapping around him. Cas cups his cheek and nudges his head up, lifting his own head and pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips. “Wanna make out?” Dean mumbles shyly, cheeks warming up. Cas chuckles at him, the sound vibrating out from deep in his chest, and flips them so he’s on top.

“Very much,” he replies, capturing Dean’s mouth in another kiss. Dean hums and pulls Cas tightly against his body, sighing softly into his alpha’s mouth as he feels his weight settle on top of him. It’s oddly comforting to be held down by his body.

Cas kisses him slowly and sweetly and deeply, devouring his mouth at a measured pace. Dean tries to reciprocate his kisses the best he can. His efforts are rewarded when Cas groans into his mouth and shifts his hips, grinding his hardening cock down against Dean’s. Dean rocks upwards, shivering as his own cock hardens.

A sharp knock on the bedroom door has them breaking apart. Cas lifts his head, eyes flashing a dark red color, and glares at the door. “What?” he snaps, very much so not happy. Dean winces at his raised voice and tightens his grip on him.

“Mr. Novak?” comes a quiet female voice. “Your mother is requesting to see you.” Cas lets out a heavy breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, they’re back to their deep blue color.

“Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment,” he replies, in a much calmer tone this time.

“Yes, sir. She’s in the sitting room,” the girl says before walking away, floor creaking under her feet.

Cas reluctantly slides off of him, lying down beside him on the bed. “You okay?” Dean asks, turning his head to look at him. Cas glances at him and smiles softly, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his hand. He throws his other over Dean’s abdomen, tugging him closer, and leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m fine, sweet boy,” he says. “I-” he hesitates. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I was pretty annoyed someone bothered us too,” Dean says, grinning up at him. Cas huffs and nips his bottom lip. Then he pulls away, sliding to sit at the foot of the bed.

“Come on,” he says, standing up and smoothing his clothes out. “Time to meet my mother.” Dean gulps thickly, but follows him over to the door, adjusting his clothes and running his hands through his hair. Cas helps to fix his hair for him, and then runs his hands down his clothes, rubbing out any wrinkles. Dean returns the favor.

Cas leads him down the halls again, and then the stairs. He takes him deeper into the house, turning the corner to a sitting area with a mid-twentieth-century style furniture. There’s a tall woman with dark hair sitting on a couch, with a fidgety-looking ruffled man beside her. Dean recognizes Michael and Anna and Jimmy and Balthazar and Raphael, and their… pets; there are three people he doesn’t know here.

Cas places his hand in the middle of Dean’s back, a comforting gesture, and it warms Dean from the inside out. “Mother,” he says in greeting. He drops his hand and steps over to the unfamiliar woman, bending forward and dropping a kiss to her cheek. “Father,” he says, also kissing his cheek.

“Took you long enough,” Naomi says, sounding mildly irritated. She glances over at Dean and frowns deeply. “Is this your pet?”

“I-” Cas’s jaw clenches visibly, and his eyes flash with anger as Naomi addresses Dean as his pet. Dean catches Cas’ gaze and shoots him a conspicuous smirk.

“That’s not me,” Dean says, forcing confidence into his voice. Naomi’s eyes darken as he answers her. “I’m not a pet, and I never will be.”

“You’re a pet whore,” Naomi counters bluntly, tone dripping with disdain. “That’s all you’ll ever be.”

“Not quite,” he replies, his hands shaking ever so slightly at his sides. “I’m not a pet whore. You wouldn’t like it if I casually called you a knot bitch, would you?” Naomi actually stands up, her back straightening and her eyes bleeding with red, a snarl appearing on her face. “Exactly.” Oh, Jesus, he really has a death wish.

Cas steps in front of his mother, staring her right in the eye. “Do not make a move towards him,” he says firmly, squaring his shoulders. Naomi looks substantially surprised at Cas’ defensiveness and the red increases in her gaze.

“Watch yourself, Castiel,” she sneers. “I am Alpha, you will respect me.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Cas takes a step forward towards Naomi and brings himself up to his full height which is a couple inches taller than her. “You will not make a move towards him,” he says, his voice cold as ice and full of steel.

Surprisingly, Naomi doesn’t lunge at him and show Cas his place in the pack - below her. She huffs softly, and the red dissipates from her gaze. She sits back down, relaxing back into the seat. “Nice to see you are an alpha after all,” she says tonelessly, crossing her legs at the knee. “Dean,” she says, turning her gaze to him. There’s something sharp in her eyes, and shockingly, pleased. “Sit on the loveseat with Castiel.”

Cas turns his body to look at Dean, his jaw parallel to his shoulder as he stares at him. His eyes are red, and his lips are parted to reveal his sharpened alpha canines; he still looks ruffled as hell, and like he doesn’t want to calm down. Staring at him makes Dean want to turn tail and run, but he knows that’s a horrible idea. Dean swallows thickly, and slowly walks towards him, head tilted to the side, eyes lowering to the ground.

Cas growls loud and rough suddenly, and Dean freezes mid-step. It takes him a second to realize the growl wasn’t directed at him, but Raphael. Dean glances quickly at her and finds that she’s now standing and looking annoyed. “Alpha,” Dean says, heart in his throat as Cas’ eyes snap back to him, the intense color a frightening sight. “Let’s take a seat.” Cas tilts his head to the side and steps two feet back without taking his eyes off of Dean. He unbuttons his blazer and slowly sits down on the loveseat, his eyes still red and keen. He crosses his legs at the knee and places his right arm over the back fo the seat, tilting his head towards the empty spot next to him.

There’s something discreetly mischievous about his gaze, that confuses the hell out of Dean. This is the second time today he's let his alpha come through, and it's more than a little worrying considering Dean's never seen him with that alpha-red gaze before. Dean walks over to him carefully, and sits down slowly, facing forward. He locks eyes with Michael, who is watching them with unashamed interest. His throat and the side of his neck is exposed to Cas, and that’s the greatest show of submission he can grant him without dropping to the floor and prostrating himself.

Cas slowly leans closer, his lips brushing against Dean’s ear, his nose in his hair. “My pretty boy,” he mumbles, voice rumbling soothingly in his ear. He sounds like he’s in control, but Dean knows his teeth are still extra-pointed and his eyes are still red. “Are you scared of me?”

Dean swallows a mouthful of saliva, still staring at Michael. “No,” he says clearly. His answer is probably confusing to the rest of the room. They have no idea what Cas asked Dean. Cas chuckles, rich and dark, and his nose drops to the crook where Dean’s neck and shoulder meet. Cas lets out a near-silent growl that makes Dean’s heart pound faster. It sounds pleased, warm.

Everyone is watching them, and Dean realizes that his face is a little too warm for comfort. This is _embarrassing_ , exposing, and Dean’s not all that comfortable with it. And yet no one is laughing at him or Cas, making fun of them or saying a word - actually. Even Raphael has paused in whatever she was going to do and is watching silently.

“Well,” Raphael suddenly says dryly. “That was a _wonderful_ show. T-”

“Shut up, Raphael,” Cas says, just loud enough to be heard. He leans back from Dean’s neck and lifts his head to look at his sibling. “No one’s in the mood to hear more of your bitching.” Dean presses his lips together to hold in a laugh, and wonders where this new attitude of Cas’ has come from.

“How-”

“He’s right,” Michael says. “Sit down, Raphael.” There’s something steely and promisingly deadly about Michael’s easily stated command that has Raphael plopping down on the couch with a huff. Michael locks eyes with Dean and winks at him, glancing at Cas briefly before looking down at Adam, his fingers sliding into Adam’s hair.

Dean doesn’t know what to do or say. Cas leans back from him but doesn’t change his position, just gives Dean some breathing room. Dean has never seen Cas with red eyes and sharpened teeth before, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. It’s hot, sure, but it’s equally, if not more, terrifying. It’s endearing that Cas was trying to protect him, to stand up to his pack-alpha for him, and Dean’s just glad that Naomi didn’t take him up on his offer and beat his ass in front of everyone. He does _not_ want to see that. But… what if Cas had actually won that fight? He can only imagine the upheaval of everything that will follow.

The room is quiet, no one is even looking at each other. Dean slowly turns his head to look at Cas, his heart thudding hard in his chest. He catches sight of his dark blue eyes, and something in him relaxes considerably. Cas captures his gaze with his own and looks hesitant, worried; scared for Dean’s reaction to his alpha-side.

Dean inhales slowly, and drops his eyes to Cas’ chin, silently sliding a little closer to him, pressing their bodies together. Cas’ arm drops from the seat to Dean’s shoulders, wrapping around them and pulling him in even closer. This is still the Cas he knows; he’s just seen a new side of him. One side that tried to protect him and only calmed down after scenting him. Dean grips a handful of Cas’ slacks in his left fist, tilting his head a little towards him. This is still his alpha.

Dean hears a low murmur, and glances over at Naomi and Chuck, watching as they speak in hushed tones with each other. Their words are indecipherable, but Dean just knows it’s at least partly about them. “Excuse us,” Naomi says loudly, standing up with Chuck. They nod at everyone as they take their leave, striding out of the room and disappearing from sight within moments.

“I as well,” Raphael says, still irritated. She stands up, gesturing her _pets_ to follow her as she walks away. Jimmy clears his throat, looking a little disgruntled now.

“Well, that was interesting,” he says, drumming his fingers on his thighs. He smiles easily when everyone turns to look at him, and shrugs slightly. “Dean, have you met the others yet?” Jimmy gestures to a female that looks eerily like him and Cas. “This is Hannah,” he points to a slim, short male beside her. “Samandriel, and that over there is Gadreel.” The last person is tall, with strong features and a quiet expression. “You sure made a great first impression on them,” Jimmy continues with amusement.

“We can speak for ourselves, Jim,” Hannah says, her voice light and clear. She’s an alpha, he can tell just by looking at the way she sits. Samandriel is an omega, clear by his demure attitude. And Gadreel… Dean’s not quite sure about him; he seems very alpha-like, but he could be a beta for all he knows. He can’t even catch a hint of his scent to try to determine either. He seems too big to be an omega, but then again, Dean’s not exactly a tiny thing. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “You guys too.” Samandriel smiles at him shyly, and Dean returns it. Gadreel just studies him carefully, like he’s been doing the whole time, and nods once in greeting. Not much for talking then, maybe he’s a very stuck-up alpha. He should ask Cas.

“Would you like to return to our room?” Cas asks, ducking his head down to speak into Dean’s ear. He shivers and gulps quietly, then nods. “Excuse us,” Cas says louder, standing up and holding his hand out for Dean. He takes it and lets himself be pulled up, muttering a goodbye to everyone as they walk away. Goodbyes are called after them, warm and amused and kind. Cas’ family doesn’t seem so bad.

They stay quiet as they head back to their shared room. Cas lets Dean walk in first, and shuts the door behind himself after stepping inside as well. He leans back against the door, hands tucked behind his lower back, head resting against the wood, exposing his throat ever so slightly. Dean clears his throat and shuffles towards the bed, sitting down at the foot. “What’s Gadreel?” he asks a little awkwardly.

“What’s?” Cas repeats, sounding confused.

“Alpha, beta, or omega?” Dean clarifies.

“Ah,” Cas chuckles, pushing himself off the door. “What do you think he is?”

Dean blinks, wondering why he doesn’t just say. “Alpha, maybe beta, but probably alpha.”

“He’s an omega,” Cas says, a wry smile appearing when Dean looks at his face. “Doesn’t look like one, does he?” Dean shakes his head. An omega that’s built like an alpha… huh. Things are quiet after that, neither knowing what else to say. Cas slowly walks closer to him, then clears his throat. “Dean…”

“Thank you,” Dean blurts out. “Thank you for- for standing up for me… and protecting me from your mom. I’m sorry you had to challenge her. I- I’m sorry I… that I talked back to her and made her angry. I-” God, he’s such a piece of shit. It’s Raphael all over again.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas mumbles, sighing. He walks the several feet between them and stands a couple feet in front of Dean. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You were reckless and ridiculous in arguing with and provoking her, but I will never let you get hurt so long as I can help it.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean mumbles, clenching his hands into fists.

“I know, Dean,” Cas says gently. There’s a pause, then Cas inhales and exhales heavily. “Look at me, please.” Dean squeezes his eyes shut, then lifts his head and opens them, locking eyes with Cas. He’s a little blurry, but that’s just because Dean closed his eyes so hard; there’s no other reason. None. Cas looks stern now, his lips pressed together and his left eyebrow slightly raised. “You’ll be completely forgiven once you accept a thorough spanking from me and apologize to my mother. Do you understand?”

“Do I have to apologize?” Dean says, the words coming out in the form of a whine. Cas’ eyebrow raises up further like he’s daring Dean to really protest. Dean drops his eyes to the floor, shoulders slumping. She’s going to know that Cas punished him when he sees her, he just knows it. It’s going to be embarrassing. What if she says something about it? Shit.

“Up,” Cas says, firm and cool. Dean jolts, realizing Cas is now standing to his right. He looks up at him with wide eyes, taking in the hard expression and just barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t wanna be spanked. “Dean. I will not repeat myself.” The words are said in a low voice, but they sound dark and warning.

Dean stands up reluctantly, his heart thudding in his chest. Cas sits down where he was, spreading his thighs apart and patting them. “Lower your pants and underwear to your ankles and lie over my legs,” he says, looking up at Dean expectantly. Dean is slow to obey, unbuckling his belt and unbutton his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down. They pool around his ankles, and that makes him feel even more exposed than if they were completely off. He drops over Cas’ thighs carefully, wiggling nervously. Cas makes him bring his arms behind his back and holds them together with his left hand.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” Cas asks, his right hand dropping softly to Dean’s ass. It’s not a slap. He starts rubbing his bare cheeks, his hand warm and soft, firm. Dean slumps further across his lap, his eyes already starting to water.

“Yes, sir,” he whispers.

“And what is that?” Cas prompts.

“I-I argued with Alpha Naomi and- and forced you to come between us and challenge her,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you will be in a moment,” Cas says, surprisingly harsh. Dean curls his toes and squeezes his eyes shut, his stomach turning. “I never wish to see you hurt, Dean, and while I don’t regret what I did, you put me in a very compromising position. We’re both lucky that my mother didn’t take it personally, otherwise, we’d both be in a very different situation right now. This wasn’t just any alpha that I had to challenge to protect you, this was _my pack alpha_. And by extension, _your_ pack alpha.”

God, he’s so stupid.

“And because of that, you will take fifteen spanks by hand and five with a belt. Do you understand?” Dean tries to answer but a quiet sob escapes instead. Cas’ hand moves up his ass to his lower back, rubbing gently. He shakes his head. He doesn’t want his comfort, he just wants to be punished. He put Cas in such a horrible situation, and he’s so fucking sorry. He’s so stupid, how could he even do-

A harsh smack lands on his right ass cheek. “Ah!” Dean yelps, struggling not to kick. He trembles and tenses. Another smack lands on his left cheek. Cas is quick and efficient, peppering his ass with a firm smack after smack, and it doesn’t take more ten hits before Dean’s silently crying outright. He pauses briefly, but only to take the belt from Dean’s pants. It’s a little awkward, given their position, but he gets it out fairly quickly.

“Five with the belt and then we’re done,” Cas says, voice still cool and detached. Dean nods, sniffling loudly and hiccuping. The five whips with the belt are delivered quickly, and they’re surprisingly not as harsh as Dean expected them to be. Cas drops the belt to the floor and lets go of his arms, tugging him up against his chest. He kisses his head gently and holds him tightly as Dean cries. “There we are,” he says, voice soft and sweet now. “My sweet boy. Shh, I know. Sometimes you make mistakes but that’s okay, you’re still my good boy. Just one more thing to do and you’ll be all forgiven, baby boy.”

Dean sobs quietly and nods, clutching at him. He feels better already. It’s harsher than anything Cas has ever punished him with before, but he knows he deserved it. “‘M sorry,” he whispers thickly, quivering in Cas’ arms. “‘M so sorry, alpha.”

“I know, my sweet,” Cas murmurs in his ear. “Come on, honey. We’ll dress you up and wash your face and we’ll go talk to my mother. I’ll be right there with you.” Dean nods, sniffing as he weakly pushes himself up to his feet. His ass feels like it’s on fire, but it’s not as bad as some of the punishments he’s faced in his life. He feels calmer, and he can’t wait until Cas forgives him fully. He’s close, he knows.

Cas helps him pull his soft panties back up, cooing quietly at him as they rub over his tender ass. Dean whines as the jeans follow, and instantly regrets wearing them today. Cas weaves his belt back through his pants, buckling it up for him. “Let’s wash your face, baby,” Cas says, guiding him towards the bathroom. He uses a soft warmly damp cloth to clean his face of tears and snot, combing his hair with his free hand and murmuring about how good Dean is being.

“Are you ready to speak with her?” Cas asks, catching his eyes to make sure. Dean nods, sniffing wetly. He catches sight of himself in the mirror, his red eyes are still shiny with some tears, and his cheeks and lips are a bright red. “Okay, honey.” Cas wraps his arm around his back and guides him out of the room. He takes him to a set of doors similar to theirs and knocks firmly.

“Who is it?” drifts through the door. Naomi.

“Castiel and Dean.”

There’s a pause. “Come in,” Naomi says. Cas opens the door and steps inside, Dean trailing after him. Dean keeps his head down, ashamed. “What can I do for you two?” Naomi asks.

“Dean has something he wishes to say to you,” Cas says, turning halfway to him. “Dean.” He clears his throat and remembers the way he was taught to apologize to alphas at Haven. He shuffles forward towards where Naomi is sitting and drops to his knees. He rests back on his heels with a tiny whine, and places his hands on his knees, palms up, and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck.

“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier, Alpha Naomi,” he says, ashamed. Naomi is silent for a moment, taking in his apology, then she sighs and reaches out. Instinctively, Dean flinches. Naomi just places her hand on his hand, petting his hair, tilting his head up.

“Apology accepted,” she says quietly, studying his face with a calm gaze. “I’m sorry as well, Dean,” she continues, shocking him. “I insulted you, and the rest of the omega pets from Haven with my words. That was inappropriate of me. I do hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course,” he says. Naomi is quickly becoming confusing to him. Naomi has a hint of a smile on her face as she gazes down at him.

Cas suddenly appears on the other side of Naomi’s legs, and drops to his knees, taking up the same position Dean had. “I’m sorry as well,” he says, guilty. “I challenged your authority.” Naomi pats his head too, huffing this time.

“Oh, please,” she says. “I wasn’t threatened by you, Castiel. I know you were protecting your omega.” She pulls her hands away, placing them in her lap. “It’s Christmas, let’s enjoy it. Both of you, up. Take some time to yourselves in your room, nap or relax, settle down. I’ll send someone to call you down an hour before dinner to have tea or coffee with the rest of us in the sitting room.”

“Okay,” they say in unison, standing up. Cas reaches for Dean, tugging him against his side, smiling softly at him. “All forgiven, lovely,” he says, running his hand through Dean’s hair. Dean flushes and tucks his face into Cas’ shoulder, nodding. “Come on, sweet boy, let’s go. Thank you, mother.”

“Thanks, Alpha Naomi,” Dean mumbles against Cas’ shoulder. Naomi makes a noise of acknowledgment to them but doesn’t speak again as they leave. Cas takes him back to their room, locking the door behind him this time.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, honey?” Cas murmurs, kissing his cheek. “Come on, let’s lie down for a while.” Dean pads after him, and crawls onto the bed with a whimper. “Not yet, honey,” Cas says, pulling him back off. “Let’s get these off of you, huh? It’ll feel much better.”

Dean lets him help shuck off his clothing, tossing them to the floor. Cas picks them up and places them somewhere neatly while Dean flops onto the bed. When Cas comes back to the bed, he’s no longer wearing his blazer and his tie is loosened, collar unbuttoned. He lies down beside Dean, more in the middle of the bed. Dean crawls on top of him, tucking his face into his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Thank you, alpha,” he whispers, nuzzling up against the underside of his jaw. Cas tugs his head up and presses a light kiss to Dean’s lips, nipping gently at the bottom one. Dean nuzzles straight back into his neck when Cas stops kissing him and sighs contentedly. Cas is warm against him, so he’s not very cold, but it is chilly.

Knowingly, Cas tugs a small blanket over them both, covering them from shoulder to foot. The blanket is soft and worn and smells like laundry detergent, but it still irritates his ass and makes him squirm a little. Cas pets his back and hair, scenting him as he does. Dean’s dozing off now, and that’s okay. Cas isn’t bothered by him sleeping on top of him, and neither of them are probably going to move for a good while.

Cas’ hands tremble and pause only briefly at his next sleepily murmured words. “Love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone who comments on this story is sweet and kind and i can't thank you guys enough. i love every single one of you and appreciate your words more than you'll ever know. thank you so much, i hope you've enjoyed this story so far <3


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